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Class g>P'67 

Book, J4i 

Gop)Tigiit}l°. 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSre 



PSYCHOLOaY AND 
HIGHER LIFE. 



BY 

WILLIAM ARCH McKEEVER, 

PBOFESSOK OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE 
KANSAS STATE COLLEGE. 



Monotyped and Printed by 

Cbane & Company, Topeka, Kansas. 

1906. 






LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

JAN 22 1906 

Copyrieht Entry 

CLASS tK XXc. N*. 

COPY B. 



Copyright 1905, 
By Crane & Company. 



TO MY FAITHFUL HELPMATE. 



PEEFAOE. 

This book grew out of a course of lectures delivered to 
the freshman students in the Kansas Agricultural College. 
It is intended to present the subject-matter of descriptive 
psychology in such a way as to constitute a simple text- 
book for the younger student and at the same time to fur- 
nish instructive reading for a much larger constituency. 

In every chapter I have had in mind that ever-increas- 
ing host of persons who, aside from the routine affairs of 
life, are giving their attention to the study and conquest 
of self. I am especially interested in the "man who is 
down" in any walk of life, and I believe that a closer 
sympathy among all classes can be brought about by 
means of a better knowledge of the self. Finally, I am 
in sympathy with the students of the so-called "'higher 
thought," but it seems to me that in every case such per- 
sons will find a more rational basis for their thinking and 
writing through a careful study of the underlying laws 
of mind — a matter which many of them have neglected 
or overlooked. 

I am indebted to my colleague, Dr. John V. Cortelyou, 

(5) 



6 PREFACE. 



Professor of German in the Kansas State Agricultural 
College, for reading the manuscript and for helpful criti- 
cisms. My acknowledgments are also due to Henry Holt 
& Co., publishers of James's and Angell's Psychologies; 
and to Allyn & Bacon, publishers of Walker's Anatomy, 
Physiology and Hygiene, for permission to use some 

valuable illustrations. 

W. A. M. 

Manhattan, Kan., Oct. 30, 1905. 



OOI^TEI^TS. 



Introduction, 11 

I. The Neural Basis of Mind, 15 

Mind and brain act together. — ^All mental states 
motor. — Consciousness always active. — Varying 
moods. — ^The neural tracts. — Nerve termini. — Qual- 
ities of feeling. — Reflex action. — Summary. 

II. Perception, 26 

The first idea. — Sensation and perception. — The spe- 
cial senses.-^Sight. — An autopsj'^. — Learning to see. 
— Hearing. — An experiment. — SpeciaUsts. — Taste 
and smell. — Touch. — Meaning of pain. — ^Tempera- 
ture sense. — The senses cooperate. — Value of clear 
perception. — Illustrations. 

III. Imagination, 40 

Experiments. — Two forms. — Kinds. — Mental process 
in. — Important function of. — Culture of. — Moral 
and aesthetic aspects. — City vs. country. — Image vs. 
reaUty. — Many-sided character. — Lonesome people. 
— Self-training. — Further aspects. — Dreams. — An 
investigation. 

IV. Memory, 5l 

Definition. — The brain process. — Association. — Con- 
sciousness under direction. — General law. — Culture 
of memory. — Attention a factor. — ^A systematic 
mind. — Memorizing literature. — Forgetting. — Logi- 
cal arrangement. — Clear vmderstanding. — Emotion 
aids. — Nerve energy involved. — "Cramming." 

V. Habit — Its Nature, 63 

Definition. — Question of interest. — Inherited habit. — 
' Jukes — Edwards. — Estimate the situation. — Forms 

of habit. — Automatisms. — Unconscious nature. — 
Psychical nature. — Life a system of habits. 
(7) 



PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



VI. Habit — Its Culture, 71 

Story of A. B. — Temperaments. — Conscious acquisi- 
tion of habit. — Early foundation. — Experience nec- 
, essary. — Storing up habits. — Breaking old ones. — 
No exceptions. — Guard the thoughts. — Call for evi- 
dence. — Fleeing from temptation. — Forming new 
habits. — Precocious develoiament. — Self-conscious 
training. — Illustration. — Thought habits and enter- 
tainment. — Illiteracy. — Conclusion. 
VII. Some Simple Investigations, 83 

Test of method. — Te.st of attention. — Some perception 
tests. — Odor perception. — Conclusions. 
VIII. Thinking, 93 

What is it? — Purposiveness, two views. — A compro- 
mise. — Mind activities interrelated. — Logical think- 
ing. — The Socratic method. — Historical statement. 
— Tliinking develops knowledge. — Aids. — Study of 
logic. — Logic historically. — Viewed psychologically. 
IX. Emotion, ......: 103 

What is it? — Explosive effect. — Relation to health. — 
May be overdone. — ^Attractiveness of. — Literature 
and inspiration. — .Esthetic appreciation. — Emotion 
and music. — Great composers. — Evolution and emo- 
tion. — The individual. — Emotional habits. — Illus- 
tration . — Training. — Art. 

X. The Development op Consciousness, 115 

Infant activity. — Impulsive action peculiar. — Alter- 
nating quiet and unrest. — Simplest law. — Further 
advancement. — Self-activity. — Man's peculiarity. — 
Imitation, in language, in movement. — Conclusion. 

XI. Volition, 123 

Classes of volitional acts. — Past experience a factor. — 
How the image aids. — Muscular control. — Effort 
pleasurable. — Mental control. — Deliberation. — 
Value of slow development. — Organic obstacles. — 
An example. — Attention a factor. — Interest. — 
Training. — Two classic views. — Reform. — Will as 
character. 



CONTENTS. 9 



XII. Some Notes on Suggestion, 135 

Power of ideas. — The crowd. — Auto-suggestion. — In- 
teresting experiment. — Suggestion in disease. — Vic- 
tims of delusion. 

XIII. Psychology op Study, 144 

Physical conditions. — Good environment. — -Callers. — 
How take up work. — Dictionary. — Masterly meth- 
ods. — Right point of view. — Working for answers. 
— Study to learn. — -How to study. — A program. 

XIV. Psychology op Work, 153 

Early perseverance. — -Overcoming. — Getting some- 
thing for nothing. — Choosing a vocation. — Your 
own master. — Saving. — ^Thinking. — Parasites. 
XV. Language, 160 

Language grows. — ■ An inheritance. — Imitation. — - 
" Baby talk." — E very-day practice. — Word im- 
agery. — -Improving the diction. — Companionships. 
— Literature. — Practical view. — Letterwriting. — 
Sincerity of speech. — Business. 
XVI. Selp-Confidence, 170 

Experience. — - Habit. — Faith. — Adversity. — Both 
sexes. — The pioneer. — The pe.ssimist. — ^The opti- 
mist. — Confidence in others. — Love a factor. — 
Hope. — Roving. — Riches.— Frankness. — Seeking 
truth. — Unworthiness. 
XVII. Know Thyself, 183 

Significance. — Socrates. — Other philosophers. — Mod- 
ern aspect. — Biology. — Evolution. — Sociology. — 
Personal description. — Esthetic appreciation. 
XVIIT. Social Sensitiveness, 190 

Conduct of animals. — Fear, showing off, etc., in chil- 
dren. — Children differ.— Bashfulness good. — City 
vs. country boy. — Later period. — The love period. — ; 
Teacher's opportunity. 
XIX. Social Sensitiveness (cont.), 202 

Primitive courtship. — Bashful swain's experience. — 
Meaning of reflection. — Better ideal. — Personal i1;ies. 
— Aids to culture. — Organic aspects. — Post-sugges- 
tion.— Blase youth. — Negative aspect. — Final word. 



10 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

XX. The Higher Life, 217. 

Is there such? — Ordinary people. — A growth. — Mental 
attitudes. — ^Regard for work. — Regard for others. — 
The spiritual life. — Plea for fairness. — The great 
fact. — -Significant point. — Recapitulation. — ^To live. 

Appendix, 229 

Revelations of science. — Illustrations. 



n^TRODUCTIOE^. 



The psychologic aspect of things has been attracting 
much attention of late. The psychology of numerous 
acts and occupations has had special treatment in the 
leading -magazines, in which it is not unusual to find seri- 
ous attempts to describe minutely processes of conscious- 
ness accompanying such acts as swearing, laughing, fight- 
ing, or swimming. 

The modern novel has taken the cue, and the reviewer 
of the book often notes "the author's powers of psycho- 
logic analysis." The psychology of advertising is fast 
becoming a subject of special study, while separate courses 
are being offered in this branch. A comparison of the 
advertising matter in a modern first-class magazine with 
that of ten years ago will show a very marked change of 
method. The older type of advertising was character- 
ized more by "glittering generalities" and boastful as- 
sertions about the quality of goods and the volume of 
business. The modern advertisement is, above all things 
else, devised to attract the attention of the reader. So 
the display type is likely "to set forth some simple, familiar 
phrase that appeals to the personal experience of a person 
of average intelligence. 

So we could go on to show that nowadays the popular 
thing to do is to try to psychologize about every conceiv- 
able subject. But this effort is often attended by many 
absurd assumptions and by much that is little better 

(11) 



12 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

than guessing about the nature of the mind. Many of 
these vagaries are doubtless attributable to the fact that 
psychology has come rather suddenly to the attention of 
the general public without the masses' having had suffi- 
cient time or opportunity to study the subject at all sys- 
tematically. Isolated statements of psychologic fact have 
been contorted into various forms and expanded into so- 
called metaphysical discussions. What is intended here, 
however, is not to discourage these efforts to view com- 
mon matters psychologically, but to give the whole sub- 
ject a more rational basis by means of a somewhat care- 
ful review of the subject-matter of psychology, and an 
attempt to show some of its relations to every-daj^ ex- 
perience. 

The people will psychologize. The mental atmosphere 
seems at present to be charged with a psychic influence. 
What the majority of intelligent persons here on earth most 
ardently long for is long life and the pursuit of happiness 
of some kind. They are coming to the belief that psy- 
chology will lend itself to the accomplishment of these 
ends, and consequently they are ever on the alert for 
psychologic interpretations of things. Fewer people than 
ever are today inclined to view their mental activities 
as a sort of fixed inheritance with little or no possibility 
of readjustment. Knowledge is of little use and has less 
meaning if it does not deal with matters viewed in re- 
lation to living. A correct method of studying psy- 
chology should open to the mind of the individual the 
problem of the self, and show him that nothing can have 
vital meaning to him unless it is related to self-expression. 

If there is any such thing as pernicious thinking, and if 
one can secure any control of his consciousness, why is 



INTRODUCTION. 13 



it not just as reasonable to advocate the production of a 
better crop of ideas as well as the development of a better 
quality of physiqije or of vegetation of any kind? A 
practical knowledge of mind and of mental laws ought to 
be an aid in the first instance and in no way a hindrance 
in the others. If^ furthermore, one can be led to realize 
something of the close relationship existing between mental 
act and physical act, he will be the more inclined to try 
to break away from the idea of predestination and to 
strive for the mastery of the situation that formerly threat- 
ened him with defeat. The writer of these lines cannot 
divest himself of the belief that a systematic knowledge of 
psychology will somehow aid one in reaching the indi- 
vidual who is down and in helping him to arise and as- 
sert his better self. 

What makes this world so dreary for many of its in- 
habitants is the poverty and meanness of their every- 
day thoughts. They lack spontaneity. They live a life 
of shreds and patches simply because they do not know 
how to organize their mental forces in such a way as to 
make them productive of life-giving thought. Practical 
mind-training ought to bring about this better result. 
Moveover, the one who has such discipline will naturally 
have these things added unto him: (1) A better under- 
standing of others, and of human nature in general; (2) 
More sympathy for others, because of a better under- 
standing of the obstacles that stand in the way of the 
progress of every really earnest soul; (3) He will think 
of people in terms of mental conduct, and thus become 
a student of motive; (4) Other things being equal, the 
man of well-organized mind is physically stronger and 
has greater power of endurance than his weaker-minded 



14 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

brother; (5) Because of his systematic, well-directed 
mental discipline he will meet with greater success in his 
chosen vocation and will thereby become a worthier mem- 
ber of society. 



PSYCHOLOi^Y AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER I. 
THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND.* 

Mind and Brain Act Together. — Strange indeed is 
this mind of ours, by means of which we love and hope 
and desire and despair and know. And yet, what is it? 
And where is it ? You cannot see it or feel it or taste it, 
or sense it in any other way. It is in the brain, you say. 
But cut into the brain and what do you find? Merely 
a few convolutions of flesh -and -blood matter; i. e., 
gray and white fibers and cells intermingled with blood 
vessels — but no mind. So we have to be content with 
saying that mind, so far as we can know it, is composed 
simply of activities or processes. Thus, loving, hoping, 
desiring, knowing, and the like, are mental processes. 

We arejaccustomed to say, however, that the brain 
is the seat of the mind; and we find much evidence war- 
ranting Jthe statement that every mental process has 
corresponding to it a brain process. By dissecting the 
human body scientists find a complex nervous system, 
which consists, roughly speaking, of brain lobes, medulla 
oblongata, spinal cords, and nerve fibers branching from 
the brain and spinal cord to every part of the body. Now 
all this system of nerves is in some way connected with 

* For illustrations of .mind-body relations, consult the Appendix. 

(15) 



16 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

our mental processes; i. e., with what we think and know. 
While this network of nerves appears to the naked eye 
to be a comparatively simple structure, a microscopic 
examination, especially of the brain mass, reveals a won- 
derfully intricate arrangement of minute fibers and cells. 
It is estimated that the normal adult human brain con 
tains four thousand million cells. 

Touch the back of your hand with a pencil-point. You 
say that you feel the pressure of the pencil. What takes 
place? Simply this: the pencil-point comes in contact 
with (stuxLulates) the end (terminus) of the nerve im- 
bedded in the skin, and the nerve quickly transmits the 
impulse to the brain, where it is recognized. Listen to 
the ringing of a bell, and while you hear it the nerve ends 
in the ears are being stimulated by the air vibrations 
and the effect again reaches the brain over the nerve 
tracts. A similar thing is true of sight. Light-waves 
strike the retina as a stimulus, and when the impression 
reaches the brain we call it sight, or speak of it as some- 
thing seen. 

All Mental States Motor. — There is not only every 
reason for asserting that every direct sense impression 
is attended by a nerve process and a brain process as 
illustrated above, but it is also true that a brain act at- 
tends every thought or idea of an abstract nature. Let 
me illustrate further. Suppose you sit in a perfectly 
quiet place with eyes closed so that you would not see 
or hear anything or experience consciously any other 
sort of contact with the outer world: even under these 
circumstances your mental process might still go on freely. 
You could still think of things you had previously seen 
and felt and tasted, and compare them mentally. In 



THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND. 17 

every. such instance, while the outer nerve stimulation 
would be lacking, there would nevertheless be a brain 
process, a kind of activity among the brain cells, accom- 
panying every thought process. 

But what seems stranger yet is the fact that every 
thought one thinks tends to express itself in an act. To 
make this statement clear, suppose you meet three good 
friends on the street-corner, each about to depart in a 
different direction and each urging you to go with him. 
You listen to A's plea and feel impeUed to go with him, 
and so afterwards with B arid C. But all the time they 
are talking there keeps coming up in your mind a more 
impelling thought than either of them can offer; for 
example, the thought that you promised your mother 
that you would return home directly. And so you do 
go directly home, but you no doubt felt, for a moment, 
an impulse to act on the suggestion of each of your three 
friends. So it is that every thought tends to express 
itself in an act, but only one, the one most impelling to 
action, directs your conduct at any given time. Of the 
thousands of thoughts that rush through one's mind in 
the course of a. day, comparatively few become realized 
in actual conduct. 

Conscious and Self- Conscious. — A^Tien one is aware 
of his surroundings he is conscious. Consciousness, then, 
is awareness of what exists or what goes on about. one's 
self. During every waking moment I am conscious of 
something or other about me. This is simply another 
way of saying that some kind of mind processes go on all 
the time while I am awake. Self-consciousness is con- 
sciousness directed in some way to the self. If one watches 
himself breathing or listens to his own heart beating, he 

—2 



18 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

is in a sense self-conscious. But we are more likely to 
think of this term as applying to instances wherein there 
is thought of one's own personal worth, such as vanity 
or conceit; or lack of worth, such as humility or bash- 
fulness. The question of self-consciousness is an important 
one for the student, and it will be treated later at more 
length. 

Consciousness Always Active. — Professor James lik- 
ens consciousness to a flowing stream, and calls it, in an 
early treatment, ''The Stream of Thought." Longfellow 
in " The Bridge " speaks of a '' flood of thoughts. " Fluency 
of speech" is another more common expression, which 
really means that there is a rapid flow of ideas. The 
figure is a good one. Our thoughts do seem to flow like 
a stream, but like an uneven one. Now the current is 
deep and strong and now calm and placid. And as the 
elements of a stream are never in the same relative posi- 
tion twice, neither are two states or processes of con- 
sciousness ever precisely the same. Consciousness never 
repeats itself. Suppose you say, ''I am thinking of 
exactly the same thing that I thought of at this time 
yesterday, viz., my home." A careful analysis will show 
that, while this is perhaps true of the object of your thought, 
the process of thought is a new one. You really have a 
process of consciousness very different from that of yes- 
terday, and the more you try to make them alike, the 
wider they differ in their elements or constituent parts. 
Try this and observe for yourself. Another thing is evi- 
ls evident: one cannot sit down and simply cease think- 
ing or think of nothing at will. If one ceases to be con- 
scious he has either gone to sleep or fainted away, or 



THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND. 19 

something of the kind, and his brain is in a state of com- 
parative rest. 

Varying Moods. — This brings us back to the main 
thesis of this chapter, viz., that whatever the process of 
consciousness, there is always corresponding to it an 
analogous brain process. When one's thoughts "flow 
freely'' there is a comparatively high state of excitability 
in the brain, and when the thinking is slow and sluggish 
the brain condition is evidently a more quiescent one. 
Thinking and the circulation of the blood are closely asso- 
ciated. To think clearly and deeply one must have a 
considerable amount of good, pure blood flowing to the 
brain. The heart-beat must be strong and vigorous. 
To verify this, just notice, in the course of the day, the 
variation in your ability to study or read with undivided 
attention. When very hungry one's heart-beat and cir- 
culation are enfeebled and the blood lacks certain nourish- 
ing elements that the brain must have for its best activity. 
Under such circumstances clear, forceful thinking is im- 
possible, and to try to study is doubtless injurious both 
to mind and body. Again, after a full meal the digestive 
processes for a time require the greater portion of the 
blood, and an intense degree of brain activity is out of 
the question. Close application to study at this time is 
at the expense of digestion. 

So one's "moods" vary throughout the day, while a 
hundred different objects come in contact with the ner- 
vous organism without and within and make up a multi- 
tude of changing conditions. If it were not for the thing 
we call habit it would seem impossible to form any such 
thing as a fixed, stable character. Many people are sub- 
ject to alternating fits of melancholy and buoyancy of 



20 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

spirit, brought about by little changes in the weather 
and by other " trifling circumstances. Statistics show 
that more suicides and crimes are committed during gloomy 
weather than during fair weather. It is also shown that 
these crimes vary with the time of day. Many agree that 
it would be harder to do a deed of violence at sunrise on a 
bright, clear, beautiful morning than during the stormy 
night. I fully appreciate this sentiment, but there is 
nearly always a tendency on my part to feel melancholy 
at about dusk in the evening. 

So we observe that consciousness is a sea of shifting, 
changing moods, never twice presenting the same aspect. 
It is the part of wisdom, as I shall try to show later, to 
attempt to control these moods in the interest of stronger 
character and higher life. "A little stoppage of the gall- 
duct," says Professor James, "a dose of cathartic medi- 
cine, a cup of strong coffee, at the proper moment, will 
entirely overturn for the time a man's views of life." 

The Neural Tracts. — Considering the nervous system 
with reference to its function of transmitting nervous 
energy, we have (1) the ingoing tracts or fibers; (2) 
the redirecting brain mass; and (3) the outgoing nerve 
tracts or fibers. The first are called afferent and the last 
efferent nerves. The afferent nerves carry the nervous 
impulses inwardly from the periphery (outside of the body) 
to the brain, or spinal cord, or smaller nerve centers. 
These nerve centers constitute the so-called central ner- 
vous system, and have the power of redirecting the im- 
pulses away from themselves toward the various parts 
of the body. The efferent nerves transmit these im- 
pulses away from the central nerve masses. Of the afferent 
nerves, those carrying sensations to the brain are called 



THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND. 21 

sensory; and of the efferent nerves, those directing the 
movements of the muscles and limbs are called motory. 
Some one facetiously illustrates the complete gensory- 
motory nervous process by means of a fish story. A 
m.an in a boat succeeds in harpooning a large fish. Imme- 
diately a message, a sensory current, is transmitted to 
the creature's brain: "Harpoon in tail.'' Whereupon, 
a motory message replies: "Jerk tail and upset boat." 

The Nerve Termini. — As suggested above, the nerve 
tracts branch out from the various parts of the body, 
many of them coming to, and spreading out over the sur- 
face of the true skin. The epidermis contains no nerves. 
It is by means of these nerve termini that the human being 
comes into actual contact with the world of objects about 
him and learns their meaning. The inner ends of the 
nerves are hidden in the central nerve mass. It is inter- 
esting to notice that the nerves over which we receive 
sensations terminate in the gray covering of the brain, 
the cortex, and that there is for each paii' or group of nerves 
a particular point of termination. For mstance, the 
optic nerve-fibers terminate in the occipital brain lobes, 
and the olfactory tracts are traced to the lower part of 
the temporal region. 

Thus it seems that each and every movement of muscle 
or limb is presided over by some specific portion of the 
brain. Wlien I raise my right hand there is evidently 
some unusual excitation in the cells to the left of the top 
of the brain mass, and left-hand movements are accom- 
panied by the same disturbance to the right of the top- 
center. Wherefore, right-handed persons are "left-brain- 
ed"; i. e., there is probably a fuller and more complex 
development of those brain cells to the left of the upper 



22 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

center than of those to the right. If this be true, it makes 
right- or left-handedness an inheritance rather than a mere 
acquirement. It has been noticed that left-handedness 
frequently ''runs in families." 

Various Qualities of Feeling. — It is also interesting 
to note the so-called "specific energies" of the various 
parts of the brain. So far as we can determine, the nerve- 
fibers are aU composed of the same kind of material and 
they transmit their energy in the same way. Notwith- 
standing this fact, the brain receives and interprets the 
various impulses that come in over these similar tracts 
as having innumerable different qualities. Each region 
of the cortex responds to the nerve currents that enter 
it in a manner that is attended by a peculiar quality of 
feeling. Blindfold a person and touch lightly with your 
finger, first the back of his hand, then the back of his neck. 
He will distinguish at once a radical difference in the feel- 
ing of the two contacts, and also locate them accurately. 
This distinction can be made between two points of con- 
tact located a small fraction of an inch apart on the sur- 
face of the hand. No satisfactory explanation of this 
power of distinction has ever been made, so far as the 
author is aware. 

Reflex Action. — Tickle a sleeping child on the hand 
and it will jerk the hand away. While you are deeply ab- 
sorbed in a book, let a fly perch upon the bridge of your 
nose. Immediately, without direction, your hand will 
go up and brush the creature away. Both of these are 
examples of reflex action. The first is entirelj^ uncon- 
scious, while the second is (or may be) conscious. In 
both cases the sensory-motory current is completed and 
in neither case is there time to think before the motion 



THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND. 23 

is executed. The central nervous system presides over 
the hfe centers, as the heart, lungs and stomach, and under 
its direction there go on the vital processes, such as secre- 
tion, digestion, and assimilation. These processes are, 
in a certain sense, reflex acts of the nervous system. For 
example, food is taken into the stomach, where it stimu- 
la,tes certain nerves. As a response to this stimulation, 
the digestive fluids are poured into the stomach. These 
reflex processes all go on unconsciously. 

Man's nervous organism- is so constructed as, under 
normal conditions, to take the best care of the body by a 
series of reflex acts. The human body is a highly com- 
plex machine which, according to the evolutionist, it has 
taken thousands of years to build. Only a small portion 
of the many acts performed by the nervous system ever 
come to consciousness. Just as soon as the organism 
becomes proficient in the performance of any acquired 
act, the consciousness of the repetitions of this act either 
ceases or becomes very dim. I was watching a young 
woman playing the piano today, and noticed that her 
fingers flew over the keys so lightly and so rapidly that it 
was impossible to follow the movements of even one of 
them. She was watching the music on the page and 
seemed to be wholly unconscious of what her hands and 
fingers were doing. Long-continued practice had brought 
about this condition. 

Summary. — The discussion so far has implied that to 
understand the mind to best advantage one must stick 
pretty close to the body, observing especially the nature 
of the nervous mechanism. As to which of the two, 
mind or body, is the more important, or what has the 
greater influence on the other, I will not here attempt to 



24 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

decide; but, for the time being, the reader will please 
observe that he cannot get along very well without either. 
To summarize, let us note, then, that — 

1. For every psychosis (mind-act) there is a neurosis 
(nerve-act). That is, accompanying every mind-act there 
is a brain-act. 

2. All mental processes tend to express themselves in 
form of physical acts, although only a few, the most act- 
impelling ones, succeed in coming to expression in such 
form. 

3. Consciousness is awareness of something existing 
or taking place in one's environment. Self-conscious- 
ness is this same awareness directed to something having 
reference to one's own person. 

4. One's moods change constantly with the every- 
varying condition of his health and his environment. 
He may experience joy, sadness, hope and despair all 
within a single hour, and shortly afterwards, while deeply 
absorbed in a problem, none of these. 

5. The nervous system is composed of (1) afferent 
nerve-tracts with specialized outer ends to catch the sense 
of touch, sight, sound, etc.; (2) Central organs of re- 
direction, as the brain, spinal cord, and smaller ganglia; 
(3) Efferent nerve-tracts to direct the movements of 
muscles, limbs, etc. 

6. Many of the ingoing nerve currents are redirected 
and movements executed correspondingly without the 
attention, or often even without the knowledge, of the 
person chiefly concerned,— the subject. 



REFERENCES. 



1. James, — Psychology, Briefer Course, Ch. II, "Sensation in 
General." 



THE NEURAL BASIS OF MIND. 25 

Angell, — Psychology, Ch. II, "The Psycho-physical Organism." 
Gordy, — Psychology, Ch. V, "The Function of the Nervous Sys- 
tem." 

Halleck, — Education of the Central Nervous System, Ch. I, "The 
Central Nervous System." 

Stout, — Groundwork of Psychology, Ch. IV, "Body and Mind." 
Hoffman, — Psychology and Common Life, Ch. I, "The Brain as 
Belated to Intelligence." 

The volumes referred to in the second division offer a more advanced treat- 
ment of the subject. 

2. Baldwin, — Development and Evolution, Ch. IX, "Mind and 
Body." Mental Development, Ch. IV, "Origin of Right-handed- 
ness." 

Bain, — Senses and Intellect, Ch. II, "Sensations." 

Wundt. — Human and Animal Psychology (first half of book). 



26 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER II. 
PERCEPTION. 

We know a thousand facts which we do not remember 
having learned. For instance, when did you learn that 
some things are true, or beautiful, or good, while others 
are untrue, or homely, or bad? When did you learn that 
the whole of anything is greater than any one of its parts? 
You feel like answering in the language of the schoolboy, 
"I always knowed such things. '^ Yet there is much to 
indicate that you have acquired this and all other knowl- 
edge you possess since the day of your birth. Descartes 
(b. 1596), a Frenchman, and the so-called founder of 
Modern philosophy, believed in innate (inborn) ideas. 
Some fundamental ideas are in the mind at birth, so he 
argued, and by means of these we become aware of the 
great multitude of facts. This theory of innate ideas is 
not advocated, however, by modern philosophers. 

The theory most nearly approaching that of innate ideas 
is that the child is endowed at birth, through inheritance 
and variation from the ancestral type, with certain capaci- 
ties for learning the facts of the world. The basis of these 
capacities is his brain structure. The sounds and sights 
and odors so common to us, must run together into one 
big conglomerate confusion to the new-born child. The 
fact is, he knows nothing, and blind instinct alone en- 
ables him to perform the few simple acts by means of 
which he is kept alive while the rudiments of his education 
are being implanted. He doesn't even know any differ- 



PERCEPTION, 27 



ence between the "me" and the "not me." The little 
pink toe at the further extremity of his body means just 
as much or just as little to him as the big house-clock or 
the shelf at the other end of the room. The puzzling 
question is, if the child doesn't know anything to begin 
with, how does he get his first idea? 

The First Idea. — This question is a difficult one, which 
the author does not pretend to answer, although his theory 
is that the first faint idea comes into the mind of the child 
as a result of the difference between his more pronounced 
sense impressions. For example, sights and sounds affect 
his nervous organism in such a different manner that a 
consciousness of this distinction must in time be forced 
upon his intelligent brain-nature. Such an explanation 
seems plausible, at least. 

One well-known theory is that different degrees of big- 
ness or volume of sight and sound and the like, first im- 
press themselves upon the nervous organism in an in- 
telligent way. All we know for certain is what we have 
actually observed, namely, that after a very few days the 
infant shows unmistakable indications of taking a slightly 
intelligent notice of things about him. At the first mo- 
ment of his existence the noises and ponderable objects 
touching him from without, and the colic and other dis- 
turbances from within, begin an everlasting irritation of 
his nervous system. He coos and kicks and screams and 
otherwise "fights back." Thus the environment impresses 
itself upon him, and thus he reacts upon it and acquires 
the more rapidly the little, simple meanings of things. 
One of the most interesting pastimes imaginable is to ob- 
serve closely day by day the conduct of the little child as 
he proceeds to find out the whole world. 



28 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Sensation and Perception. — The new-born child is 
perhaps the only person that is capable of experiencing 
pure sensations, that is, merely vague, uninterrupted, 
unnamed physical feelings. Such are sensations, the so- 
called first things in consciousness. One reason a pure 
sensation is well-nigh impossible to the average adult per- 
son is the fact that he immediately interprets the sensations 
as they come to him, and such interpretation constitutes 
perception. Unlike the infant, he perceives at once that 
the object felt is a hot stove or that the thing heard is a 
bell ringing, etc. 

However, you might try this experiment: while some 
friend is wholly unexpecting it, thrust a pin (not too 
deep) into the back of his hand. Then, if he is not too 
much incensed at the experimenter, ask him to state at 
once whether or not he felt first a mere sensation, while 
the interpretation (the perception) came later. A num- 
ber of persons have been able, so they maintained, to 
separate sensation and perception in some such manner. 
There is no doubt that a very brief interval of time elapses 
between these two, although it may not exceed a lightning- 
flash in duration. 

The function or purpose of perception is very evident. 
Through the avenues of the special senses there come 
various sense impressions which have to be interpreted, 
or perceived. This interpretation, or perception, is always 
in terms of something that has been learned before. To 
illustrate : Suppose I hold up to your view an object that 
is very unfamiliar to you. Your first statement is a ques- 
tion, namely, ''What is it?" I ask you to examine the 
object more closely, and you immediately begin trying 
to find a name for it. That is, you class it with some 



PERCEPTION. 29 



object which is already famiUar to you. At first you say 
it is a thing, and later you suggest mirror and microscope, 
till, at last, I tell you it is a color-sense tester. 

Perception, then, might be called the interpretation of 
the raw material of sensation; and it in turn furnishes a 
comparatively raw material for the higher intellectual 
activities, such as imagination and reasoning. 

The Special Senses. — Every part of the peripheral 
(outer) nervous system seems to be sensitive to contact, 
but some parts of it have become highly specialized. It 
was an ancient philosopher named Demetrius who first 
suggested that the special senses are merely modified 
forms of the touch sense. Sound vibrations touch the 
nerve -ends in the ear, sight (ether) vibrations impinge 
upon the retina, floating particles come in contact with 
the olfactory nerves, etc. Now, it may be true that 
millions of years ago, the ancestor of man was like a jelly- 
fish, or even an amoeba, a little simple creature that has 
exactly the same kind of substance in every part of his 
body. It may also be true that this little insignificant 
creature, by means of being tossed and rolled around by 
the elements, developed finally into something higher 
and more significant, untU after thousands of evolutions 
he became a man. We do know that a tadpole some- 
how finally evolves into a frog. But we are not much 
concerned about all this just now. 

What we are concerned about is the unquestionable 
fact that one can't see very well with his ears or taste 
very much with his eyes. So while all these special 
senses may aU be modified forms of the touch sense, each 
one of them has its own very peculiar way of interpreting 



30 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

a very peculiar form of touch. We see, thus, that their 
difference is more significant than their likeness. 

The Sense of Sight. — Very early in life a child begins 
to notice objects. After a few days his little eyes will 
follow a moving light, and after that other moving things 
attract him. Still later, bright, stationary objects are 
noticed. The sight centers, that is, the portions of the 
brain that are active in interpreting things seen, lie in the 
back part of the cerebrum. Here the cells seem to be 
developed in proportion to the keen-sightedness of the 
person. In the case of a person blind from birth the 
convolutions are much shriveled up in this region of the 
brain. 

An Autopsy. — President G. Stanley Hall, of Clark 
University, performed a most interesting experiment. 
After the death of Laura Bridgeman, a blind deaf-mute, 
remarkable for her intellectual attainments, Dr. Hall 
examined her brain carefully and found that the optic 
lobes were withered and undeveloped, the gray covering 
being much thinner over this portion. On the contrary, 
the lateral portions of the brain, the centers for movement 
of the secondary muscles, showed unusual development. 
The absence of the two senses of sight and hearing com- 
pelled Miss Bridgeman to depend almost wholly upon 
the musclar sense and the sense of touch in getting her 
knowledge about things. Hence the full development 
of the lateral brain convolutions. 

Learning to See. — The child at birth is blind, at least 
in the sense that he can't see any meaning in things; and 
he gradually learns to see by experience. Some of the 
ways in which he learns to see and distinguish things by 



PERCEPTION. 31 



sight are as follows : Images of objects moving about him 
pass over the retinae. The same effect occurs with station- 
ary objects when h*e moves his head. After a few weeks 
he touches and handles things, thus becoming able to see 
them at various sides, angles, and distances. Later he 
may approach or withdraw from a distant object and get 
the experience of its seeming increase or diminution in 
size. And then, at greater maturity, he has pointed out 
to him, and he discovers by various other means, the 
finer points of likeness or difference in things. 

People use their eyes very differently. We see only 
what we are looking for and are more or less blind to other 
things. That is, we see best and in greatest detail only 
those things which experience has taught us how to see? 
and this likely means the things in which we have the most 
interest. , The specialist in botany sees in tree and plant 
a hundred specific qualities which never meet our view. 
A long and tedious experience has enabled him to do this. 
The professional horse-jockey will likely "cheat you out 
of your eyes" in a trade unless you have had an equally 
long and varied experience in observing the points in a 
horse. It is said that the average society woman can 
''take in" at a glance all the various articles of dress of 
three others of her kind whom she may meet and pass 
hurriedly upon the street. But no doubt this is one of 
her specialties. 

In all these cases of peculiar aptitude for seeing things 
in their fullest meaning, you may be sure that the persons 
have had much practice in just this particular kind of thing, 
and that there goes along with it a natural or acquired 
inclination for such observation. 

The Sense of Hearing. — The human ear is a marvel- 



32 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ous instrument, being able, as it is, to make distinctions 
between any two of thousands of different sounds. And 
yet the special process, so far as we can discern, is always 
practically the same; i. e., sound-vibrations impinging 
upon the outer ends of the auditory nerves are carried to 
the brain. The distinctions seem to arise in the brain 
itself, where the cells are either excited differently, or else 
different cells are affected by different sounds. The cen- 
ter for hearing is located in the upper convolution of the 
temporal brain-lobe. The range of the average human 
ear is from 16 to 30,000 vibrations per second. 

Here, as in the case of sight, we note that one hears 
best what he has trained to hear and what he is most in- 
tently listening for. This suggests why the farm-hand 
can hear the distant dinner-horn at such a great distance, 
and also why the trained orchestra leader can detect the 
slightest discord in the sound of any one of the many in- 
struments playing, and also why the telegraph operator 
can read off the message from one of a score of clicking 
instruments. In all these cases there has been a special 
kind of ear-training. Try to use the telephone in a noisj^ 
telegraph office. You can't hear for the confusion, but 
the office boy can. He has learned how to listen by long 
practice. It is a well-known fact that the novice in the 
use of the telephone often complains of not being able to 
hear. The fact is he has not yet learned to give the pe- 
culiar kind of attention required. 

An Experiment. — You hear, then, intelligently, only 
what you know how to hear. Hearing, like every other 
kind of perception, comes from practice. Try the follow- 
ing experiment in a quiet place: Let some one step to 
the opposite side of the room, and, after taking out his 



PERCEPTION. 33 



watch, approach you slowly till you hear the watch tick- 
ing. Have a third person mark with crayon the exact 
spot at which yoii' heard the instrument. Next have the 
watch brought close to your ear and then let it be carried 
slowly away from you. You will likely find, as is nearly 
always the case, that you can hear the watch at a greater 
distance in the second instance. Why? Because you 
already have the sound to begin with, and know exactly 
what to keep listening for. 

Some Specialists. — The acute hearing of the profes- 
sional '' eaves-dropper" is well known. The public-school 
teacher is often a good detective in cases of school-room 
misdemeanors, because of much practice in listening for 
this kind of thing. The watermelon thief succeeds in 
securing the ''rich juicy fruit" in spite of the darkness of 
the night, because of his ability to distinguish the '' thump' ' 
of the ripe melon from that of the green. The law in all 
these cases is ever the same, that of the attention trained 
to the peculiar kind or quality of sound to be listened for. 

Among physically normal persons, only the pronounced 
■genius may be mentally blind and deaf to things presented 
to his sight and hearing. He neither sees you approach 
nor hears your voice, because his mind is absorbed in some- 
thing else, and just then he has no attention for these 
particular things. 

Taste and Smell. — The results of scores of experiments 
have served to show that these two senses are very de- 
pendent, both upon each other and upon the senses of 
sight and touch. Let one be blindfolded and have his 
nose plugged up and he will distinguish different articles 
of food largely by means of the delicate sense of touch in the 

—3 



34 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIOHER^LIFE. 

tongue. I have found that out of one hundred tests, 
only one person, a druggist, by means of the smell sense 
alone was able to distinguish and name a dozen different, 
very familiar odors. The other 99 did not average over 
25 per cent. Before the nose recognizes an odor it usually 
waits for the eyes to look about and aid in the matter. 
It is always so much easier to see definitely than to smell 
definitely, that the poor, slow-going olfactory nerves get 
very little careful, specific training. 

These senses can be trained, however, for it is said that 
professional tea-tasters can distinguish as many as fifty 
different varieties of tea. This is accomplished after 
long practice, mostly by means of a well-developed sense 
of smell. There are, however, different degrees of bitter- 
ness to be detected by the taste-sense. To the author 
there are just two kinds of tea — hot and cold. Unless 
one has given it much special exercise, the olfactory nerve 
is easily fatigued. It was noticed that, in the case of the 
100 tests referred to above, the sense of smell was often- 
times lost, or partially so, and rest was frequently neces- 
sary, after the first half-hour. 

Touch. — Some evolutionists believe that the sense of 
touch, accompanied by pleasure or pain, or both, was the 
primitive one in animal life. There are still found crea- 
tures of such low order that their only manifestations of 
life consist in slightly withdrawing from things that touch 
them painfully, and in slowly folding themselves around 
any object that has a pleasurable contact so as to absorb 
and assimilate it. We do not exemplify such a simple 
form of life, but we do instinctively recoil from contacts 
that are painful, such as a piece of dry sandpaper pressed 
against the side of the face; while we reach forward for a 



PERCEPTION. 35 



contact that is pleasurable, such as the warm clasp of a 
friendly hand. 

The nerves of touch are found terminating in the true 
skin on a]l parts of the body. They are most numerous 
at the finger-tips and the end of the tongue and fewest 
on some parts of the back. To prove this statement, 
notice that two pencil-points are felt as two, even when 
placed a small fraction of an inch apart on the finger-tip, 
and that they cannot be felt as two till they are distant 
from each other two inches or more on the back. This 
arrangement is in accordance with utility. The finger- 
ends, through their acute sense of touch, aid us in a thou- 
sand instances in getting the quality of things. Notice, 
too, that, besides increasing the pleasures of taste, the 
high sensitiveness of the tip of the tongue enables one to 
determine nmch as regards the consistency of the food he 
is masticating. The tongue is " quick to discover any 
unusual or unwelcome substance in the food. 

Meaning of Pain. — These nerves of touch are also in- 
valuable guards of the welfare of the body as suggested 
above. They signal to the brain in times of danger so 
that the life or health of the body may be preserved, and 
they report also upon those contacts which may be in- 
dulged for the sake of the body's comfort and well-being. 
Pain, which we despise and fear so much, is a great bless- 
ing. We could not get along without it. Every time 
we abuse the body by any kind of excess or neglect, pain 
steps in and calls a halt. Were it not for the interference 
of pain, many people would work their poor bodies to 
death in their eagerness to accomplish some cherished 
purpose. Others would cut off their fingers and toes or 
otherwise mutilate the body just to satisfy an inordinate 



36 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

curiosity to see how things look on the inside. Again, 
disease attacks the body, and the attending pain forces 
one to seek the means of health. If pain could talk, the 
student would often hear that throbbing headache say, 
''Quit studying so late at night," or, "Ventilate your 
room better," or, ''Masticate your food more slowly." 

While physical pain deters us from acts and conditions 
that are injurious to the body, pleasure ought to, and in 
many cases does, incite us to acts that are helpful to the 
organism. However, the simple utility of bodily pleasure 
is not so evident as that of pain. For instance, if physical 
pleasure, such as eating or drinking, is over-indulged, it 
results sooner or later in suffering. One can get too much 
even of a good thing. Temperance, or moderation, must 
be the rule, and all pleasurable practices must be under 
the guidance of reason. Does the pleasure in question 
contribute to bodily health and future well-being? Opium- 
eating is said to give temporary pleasure, but its later 
effects are terribly painful and destructive to health and 
happiness. Smoking, though painful at first, finally gives 
a very seductive, though inordinate, form of physical 
pleasure, but its final results are believed to be positively 
injurious. 

The law of life seems to be that, sooner or later, one 
must pay for every excessive physical indulgence with 
his own suffering. 

The Temperature Sense. — It can now be demon- 
strated pretty clearly that there are separate nerves for 
sensing temperature. Heat a steel point and pass it over 
the back of the hand : only at certain fixed points do you 
feel the heat of the instrument. Pass an ice-cold steel 
point over the hand in the same way, and you find other 



PERCEPTION. 37 



points that respond to the low temperature of the steel. 
By marking the ''hot spots" and "cold spots" with ink 
of different colors, jbn may get an idea of their number 
and location. At points between these, merely the contact 
of the instrument is felt, but no sense of temperature. 

The Special Senses Co-operate. — I hand you a piece 
of unfamiliar material. You look it over carefully; and 
then perhaps you feel of it, and smell it and taste it, and 
heft it and strike it against something to get the sound. 
At last you decide that the object is a piece of dry cypress. 
But before reaching the decision you have really brought 
out the testimony of every one of the special senses. Thus 
the senses aid one another in getting our knowledge of 
things. We always perceive concrete, familiar objects 
in terms of two or more of the senses. What is an apple 
but an object that tastes and smells and feels and sounds 
(when tapped lightly) and appears to the eyes in a certain 
peculiar way ? 

The absence of any one of the special senses would give 
you a peculiar notion of things. A blind man would not 
be able to distinguish a cat from a hat simply by seeing 
them after first enjoying the sense of sight. Actual tests 
have proven such to be the case after surgical operations 
resulting in the restoration of sight to adult blind persons. 
When you think of your friend, the sound of his voice 
comes to mind, but to the deaf person this is a world of 
pantomime. He can think only of his friend's physical 
appearance, of his gestures and movements, and, perhaps, 
of how it feels to clasp his hand. 

People who are deprived of the use of one or more of the 
senses often acquire special aptitude in the use of the others. 
The most notable case of this kind is that of Helen Kellar, 



38 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

who, though deaf and dumb and blind from infancy, has 
learned to speak and read two or three languages, and 
has done, with highest credit, all the work in a college 
course. Miss Kellar has had to depend on her finger-tips 
for practically all that she has learned. (See her remark- 
able article, "A Chat About the Hand," in The Century 
for January, 1905.) 

Value of Clear Perception. — We are. of ten in too great 
a hurry or too careless to perceive clearly. On accoimt 
of poor training in childhood and youth we may have a 
very confused idea of things that ought to be familiar to 
us. The nervous system responds to good and bad train- 
ing with equal readiness while one is young; but after 
mature years are reached, there is little possibility of 
changing one's mode of perceiving. The best, and practi- 
cally the only period, for training the perceptions, then, 
is the early period of life. It is told of Agassiz, the great 
naturalist, . that he kept a boy shut in a room alone for 
many hours looking at a little, seemingly uninteresting- 
ing fish. The boy was thus compelled to make the ex- 
amination a critical one. He also acquired a practice of 
very great value — that of seeing all there is in an object 
of attention. 

Illustrations.^ — Five young men from Kansas attended 
the International Stock Show at Chicago, and carried 
away a trophy for corn- judging. Clear perception of a 
peculiar kind gave these young men this special aptitude. 
One of the highest salaried employes of a great dry-goods 
house in New York is a man who has been selected on ac- 
count of his natural and acquired fitness. His keen eye 
and sensitive finger-ends, after long, persistent practice, 
have been trained to do the work for him. Every sue- 



PERCEPTION. 39 



cessful business man must know one thing thoroughly; 
that is, his own business. And this imphes not merely 
clear perception of* some particular kind, which is abso- 
lutely essential, but often a wide knowledge of men and 
events. 

Some day, it is hoped, parents and teachers will become 
more careful and painstaking in training the young to 
perceive clearly. The process will consist chiefly in 
pointing out to the child, incidentally, in his play as well 
as his work, the specific, detailed characteristics of things 
seen, and heard, and otherwise sensed. 



REFERENCES. 

1. James, — Psychology, Briefer Course, Ch. VIII, "The Function 
of the Brain"; Ch. XX, "Perception." 

Titchener, — Primer of Psj'-chology, Ch. Ill, "Sensation"; Ch. 
VI, "Perception." 

Angell, — Psychology, Ch. V, "Sensation"; Ch. VI, "Perception." 

Stout,— Groundwork of Psychology, Ch. V, "Sensation." 

Halleck, — Psychology and Psychic Culture, Ch. Ill, "Presenta- 
tion"; Ch. IV, "Culcure of Perception." 

See also Thornton's Human Physiology, Chapters XVI to XVIII 
inclusive; for a valuable discussion of Sensation. 

3. Kulpe, — Outline of Psychology, Pt. I, Chapters I, IT. 

Calkins, — Introduction to Psychology, Chapters I to V inclusive. 

Ladd, — -Physiological Psychology, Ch. V. 

Carus,— The Soul of Man, Ch. Ill, "The Phyi^iological Facts of 
Brain Activity." 



40 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER III. 

IMAGINATION. 

Think deliberately, and in the order named, of each of 
the things given below : 

1. The appearance of your home from the outside. 

2. The face of a familiar, absent friend. 

3. The voice of this friend. 

4. The explosion of a fire-cracker, a bell ringing. 

5. A boy whistling- '' Yankee Doodle." 

6. The odor of roses, plum blossoms, onions. 

7. The taste of sugar, quinine, salt, lemons, hot coffee, 
ice-cream. 

8. The sensation in the finger-ends when touching fur, 
sandpaper, a dry brick, a baby's face, a piece of fine silk. 

9. The feeling in your hand while it holds a chunk of 
ice, a hot biscuit. 

10. The weight of a chair lifted by your hand. 

11. A horse with six legs. 

12. Water flowing uphill. 

Every one of these objects, if thought of, requires the 
use of the imagination. If this is true, imagination seems 
to be simply consciousness of things not present to the 
senses. A little reflection will show, however, that ex- 
cepting numbers 11 and 12, these images relate to things 
that have at some past time been present to the senses- 
Imagination, in the first ten cases above, consists in the 
formation of a mental copy (image) of the thing seen, 
the sound, the taste, the odor, etc. Is it not, then, merely 



IMAGINATION. 41 



the act of perception done over again but with fainter 
effect than the original perception? Here, imagination 
is a weaker reproduction of perception. 

Two Forms Only. — But the last two cases are evi- 
dently very different from the first ten, for in them we 
have images of things never present to the senses. No 
one has ever seen a six-legged horse, or a stream of water 
flowing uphill, but he has seen all the elements of these 
objects; i. e., for example, water flowing and an uphill 
incline. One may think of an object as composed of all 
sorts of familiar elements, but he can't think of anything 
having a single element that has not been at some time 
an actual object of sense perception. Try it. Imagine, 
if you can, the form and the taste of a shugroo. So we 
have only two forms of imagination: (1) Reproduction 
(1 to 10 above), and (2) productive or constructive (11 
and 12). 

Thus far we have been using the word imagination 
only in its technical or psychological sense. The popu- 
lar meaning of the word is somewhat different. When 
we speak of a book, for instance, as being a ''work of 
imagination," we have reference to merely the poetic 
fancy of the author. Again, we saj^ of a person that he 
''imagines too many things," meaning that he forms too 
many hasty, unjust judgments concerning other people's 
acts and motives. 

Kinds of Imagination. — Let us get a little clearer 
understanding of what is meant by the image in psychol- 
ogy. Think of how an absent object, say an apple, ap- 
pears, and you have a visual image ; think of how it tastes, 
and you have a gustatory image; of how it smells, and 
you have an olfactory image; of how it feels to the touch, 



42 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

and you have a tactual image; of how it sounds when 
you are peeling it, and you have an auditory image; of 
how it affects you when, ice-cold, it is held in the hand, 
and j^ou have a thermal image. Although many are in 
the habit of referring the term image to its visual form 
only, there are reallj^ as many forms of images and imagina- 
tive processes as we have senses. 

As a matter of fact, the majority of people use the visual 
form of imagination much more than any of the others, 
and their visual images are correspondingly clearer. The 
auditory form stands next in importance. This means 
simply that people depend more upon their eyes and ears 
than the other sense organs, in every-day perception, and 
use them more. I have rather acute auditory perception, 
and can imagine a tone or sound long after the vibrations 
have ceased. For instance, the image of the voice of a 
friend who has been dead for six years is still very clear in 
my mind. I once knew a student who could not translate 
German by means of silent reading. He had to hear him- 
self speak the words before he could grasp their meaning 
in English. For the same reason there are a few persons 
who find it necessary to read their English aloud in order 
to get a ready interpretation. 

The Neural Process in Imagination. — Close your eyes, 
and see "in your mind's eye" the face of an absent friend; 
or listen, and imagine you hear a horn blowing. In every 
such case, there is evidence that the characteristic nerve is 
stimulated, more faintly of course than in actual percep- 
tion, from within. An object clearly seen or a sound dis- 
tinctly heard seems to leave a distinct impress upon the 
cellular brain structure. It is said by some that the brain 
is plastic or pliable (especially early in life) similarly to the 



IMAGINATION. 43 



record cylinder of a phonograph. The indentations on the 
cylinder correspond to the original perception. The report, 
when the machine is in operation, is the image. Others 
suggest that, when one perceives a new object, there is a 
tract or '' path" of excitation formed in the brain mass, and 
this imagination is merely a weaker impulse passing through 
this new "path" of least resistance. 

There is a time in the life of nearly every child during 
which the nerve mechanism is so impressionable that the 
copy, or image, seems as real to him as the original percep- 
tion. He is temporarily like Tennyson's Prince, who 
''could not tell the shadow from the substance." He tells 
people all sorts of stories, ''yarns made out of whole cloth." 
and his mother is horrified to think that the child has be- 
come such a prevaricator, and wonders whom he inherited 
it from. There is no cause for alarm, however. The thing 
imagined and the thing originally perceived are seemingly 
equally vivid to the child, and he mistakes the one for the 
other. If properly dealt with, the average case will re- 
cover in due time. 

An Important Function of the Image. — What con- 
stant use do we make of the image? Let us see. I hold 
up before you a stick and ask, " How long is it ? " " Nearly 
a yard," you answer. In making the judgment you com- 
pare the stick with your mental image of a three-foot meas- 
ure, a yardstick, perhaps. I then strike a piano-key, and 
ask you to name the pitch. "F," is your reply. In this 
case you likely have a clear mental image of the pitch of, 
say middle C, and you compare the two, hearing one in 
reality and the other in imagination. So, just as in the case 
of the yardstick and the pitch middle C, the mind carries 
a large stock of standard-measure images for practical use. 



44 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Going back for a moment to the consideration of per- 
ception, we notice an interesting situation. It is this: 
while the image is in every case a copy of some previous 
act or acts of perception, every simple act of perception is 
attended and aided by the imagination. For instance, a 
pleasant odor strikes your olfactory nerve. AVliat is it? 
"Clover blossom," you reply, as the image of the familiar 
odor comes to mind. 

Culture of the Imagination. — It ought to be evident 
by this time that a clear, vivid imagination is acquired 
largely through clear, precise perceptions, of which it makes 
copies. But the fixing of the image comies from practice. 
Many are so engrossed with first-hand perceptions that 
they give little attention to this practice that gives perfec- 
tion. Especially are the tactual and olfactory images neg- 
lected. A little daily exercise of these forms of imagina- 
tion, however, will bring results that are surprising. For 
example, arrange in order of smoothness a dozen or more 
objects; and, after touching each in turn, try to retain the 
image of the feeling imparted. Then touch each one in 
quick succession and try to recall the image of each. This 
is also a good form of memory-training. 

There seems to be a great difference in the imaginative 
ability of people. A difference in amount of training is not 
the only explanation. One cause doubtless lies in the va- 
riation, in different persons, in the constituency of the nerve- 
structure. A vivid imagination usually accom^panies a 
choleric, emotional temperament. There is no mistaking 
the fact that the images are much more numerous and 
vivid when one is in an emotional state of mind. Let one 
be subjected to great fear on account of a storm that is 
approaching : visions of a score of dire calamities previously 



IMAGINATION. 45 



heard about go thronging through his imagination. Under 
pressure of intense anger one rapidly imagines his foe in a 
dozen unfavorabie or humihating situations. 

Moral and .Esthetic Aspects. — The proverb which 
says, "As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he," is best in- 
terpreted in terms of the imagination, meaning that a man's 
character is fashioned in accordance with the nature of his 
dominant thoughts. Let him constantly imagine himself 
performing acts of charity and giving expressions of sym- 
pathy, and his life will soon shape itself in accordance with 
these sentiments. On the other hand, if all his thoughts 
are of a criminal nature, criminal acts are pretty sure to 
follow. 

The psychologic explanation of the bad effects of the dime 
novel and low, vulgar companionships is easily brought out 
in this connection. No boy hears related an exciting story 
but that he tries to imagine himself in the place of the hero. 
After considerable practice this thing becomes a passion. 
His plastic nervous system yields readily to the new kind 
of process, and he finds that his silent or solitary hours are 
completely taken up by contemplation of these degrading 
conduct-images. The remainder is easy. He slides down- 
ward to a level of debauchery and dishonesty as naturally 
as an icicle from the comb of the roof, and his fall is just 
about as precipitate. 

Different Effects of City and Country. — The child 
that grows up in situations that furnish continuous enter- 
tainment through the avenue of the senses does not find 
it necessary to call up images for his amusement, and he is 
likely, therefore, to be lacking in imagination of the con- 
structive kind. Here is suggested an element of weakness 
in the character of the child reared in the city. The coun- 



46 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

try bumpkin, on the other hand, whose surroundings dur- 
ing most of the time are of a more commonplace character, 
is likely to entertain himself during much of the time with 
images of varied forms of the occasional interesting expe- 
riences that come into his life. Being thus forced to gain 
much of his amusement by means of the copies and fictions 
of his own imagination, he ought naturally to be more in- 
ventive, and more able to adjust himself to the new and 
trying circumstances that are certain to come to him later. 

The Image versus Reality. — Day-dreaming and build- 
ing air-castles are bad as every-day practices, but good if 
indulged occasionally, as developers of the imagination. 
Fairy tales and other depicted situations that sport with 
the fixed conditions of reality are a wholesome tonic for 
the child-mind, but they must not be administered in such 
large or frequent doses as to destroy his sense of the real. 
After he has enjoyed the fairy tale for a time he ought to 
have revealed to him its flimsy character, and thus to be 
made aware of the solid foundation of actual things. Such 
treatment is likely to add to the child's make-up a happy 
mixture of sober sedateness and airy fantasy, and, in time, 
to lead him to an appreciation of the many-sidedness of the 
well -developed character. 

A Many- Sided Character. — Every well-rounded char- 
acter ought to have a dash of poetic imagination. Such an 
one is often enabled thereby to tune the discordant harp 
of life to a much more harmonious key. A vivid imagina- 
tion, trained along optimistic lines, is a natural enemy of 
the "^^ blues" and a joy forever to its possessor. The dull, 
unimaginative character is likely to become stuck in the 
bog-mire of despond when the concrete situation immedi- 
ately surrounding gets into an unpleasant tangle. The 



IMAGINATION. . 47 



pessimistic traveler upon life's dusty pathway suffers ex- 
cruciatingly on account of the imagined bunions and stone- 
bruises that are to pester his weary feet. But the rightly 
trained soul catches in imagination the brightness of the 
smishine and the' aroma of the flowers along the way ahead 
of him. The strange thing about it all is that these two 
typical creatures may often be found jogging along the way 
together ; but they certainly look at matters in a very dif- 
ferent light. Wliich would you be? 

Lonesome People. — If one shuns his own company, 
dislikes to be alone, — and such persons are numerous, — it 
is altogether likely that his constructive imagination is un- 
trained. He is then necessarily lonesome without some 
one to do this work of thinking for him. Such persons are 
usually satisfied with a cheap kind of chit-chat in their com- 
panions, or if they read, with a story that merely furnishes 
passing entertainment. It is not by any means one's own 
fault that he is thus unimagmative. His early training of 
this character was likely neglected. Children whose spon- 
taneity is crushed out by a too early application to work, and 
whose play period is therefore omitted, are likely to be im- 
aginative. Of this matter I hope to have more to say later. 

Self- Training.— To people who find themselves, at a 
mature age, lacking in constructive imagination, the author 
would say, in his judgment, there is still possibility of im- 
provement. A daily period of forced solitude in a quiet 
place, and at that time of day when the physical organism 
is in its best state of equilibrium so that sleepiness will not 
ensue, will accomplish much. Take the suggestion on 
faith, temporarily, and try this daily practice regularly for 
two weeks. As you sit, try to construct imaginatively 
every manner of object that you have not seen. For au- 



48 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ditory training, try to hear, in imagination, and to compose, 
a tune you have never heard. Give the other kinds of 
sense-images the same sort of manipulation if possible. 
This practice will be all uphill work at first, and will seem 
to you to be foolish, at best; but try it and persist in it, 
and the results will likely both delight and astonish you. 

Henry D. Thoreau, the silent seer of Concord, although 
scarcely ever visited by human being, often said that he 
was not alone for a moment while living in that rude cabin 
in the woods. They who have rich imaginative ability 
are never alone. 

Further Aspects. — The man of inventive genius is 
one whose constructive imagination builds mental copies 
of a thousand different concrete situations and combina- 
tions with reference to some problem that is engaging his 
attention. Nearly all of these constructions of the imagi- 
nation are rejected either wholly or in part until the right 
image is hit upon, and 'the world of invention is enriched 
by the seemingly useless hours he has spent in being a re- 
cluse and a ''crank." 

Dreams. — Dreaming is a most interesting phenome- 
non, but, so far as brain processes are concerned, it is ex- 
plainable on the same grounds as imagination. Day- 
dreaming, or reverie, would be its waking counterpart. In 
the latter case the mind processes come and go in a capri- 
cious manner, and are little under the direction of the will. 
Sit down under a shady tree on a warm summer day and 
just let your mind do as it pleases, and a state of reverie 
will ensue. In actual dreaming, the ideas are much more 
incongruous and incoherent. Scenes are shifted rapidly 
and objects are transformed variously. Seemingly every 
mode of one's waking experience may be repeated in the 



IMAGINATION. 49 



form of dreams. These may be put together in ludicrous 
combinations. 

Tlie nature of drpams has been suggestive of some well- 
known productions in literature. For examples, Bellamy's 
"Looking Backward" and Byron's "Pandemonium" might 
be mentioned. Every shade of emotion may be experi- 
enced by the dreamer. Anger, fear, love, hatred, cour- 
age, laughter, — these and more are conmion. During 
early manhood the author dreamed that he and three other 
yoiing men were riding side by side on bicycles at the rate 
of about thirty miles per hour, and that each was plowing 
a furrow with a corn-lister, while each, together with his 
lister, furnished his part in the music of a male quartette. 
This was, in fact, only a curious mixture of the author's 
early experiences. 

An Investigation of Dreams. — Mr. James Ralph Jew- 
ell made a very interesting study of over 2000 dreams as 
experienced by more than 800 young people, and he dis- 
cusses the whole subject at some length in The American 
Journal of Psychology. (Jan. 1905.) The following con- 
clusions are taken, in substance, from his smmnary. 

1. Dreams differ widely with respect to age and locality. 

2. They may be prevented by suggestion, but not so 
initiated. 

3. They are often confused with reality. 

4. Dreams are most frequent durmg the period of puberty 
and adolescence. 

5. One never dreams the inexperienced, but every kind 
of wakmg experience may be repeated. 

6. One may, while sound asleep, know that he is dream- 
ing; while at other times he assures himself that "this is 
not a dream." 



50 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

7. Children often suffer from morbid fears engendered by 
dreams. 

8. There is no conclusive evidence that dreams foretell 
actual events, but there is much to indicate that they have 
a wide influence on real life. 

There is no gainsaying the fact that the imagination may 
have much influence on the body in the case of some peo- 
ple. Imagined disappointments and calamities, if habit- 
ual, are likely to weaken the blood circulation or otherwise 
interfere with the healthy functioning of the bodily organs, 
making the organism more susceptible to disease. Images 
of pleasurable experiences a,nd of the successful outcome of 
one's serious purposes, on the other hand, are merely other 
names for these joyful anticipations which by practice tend 
to heighten the bodily functions and to give the whole 
organism a healthier tone and greater buoyancy. 

A further treatment of imagination Mall frequently come 
up incidentally in the discussion of a number of other forms 
of mental activity. 



REFERENCES. 

1. Stout, — Groundwork of Psychology, Ch. X, "Idea and Image." 

Calkins, — Introduction to Psychology, Ch. XV, "Imagination." 

Angell, — Psychology, Ch. VIII, "Imagination." 

Titchener, — Outline of Psychology, p. 295 f., "The Nature and 
Forms of Imagination." 

Halleck,— Psychology and Psychic Culture, Ch. VII, "The Culture 
of Imagination." 

3. Royce, — Outlines of Psychology, Ch. VI, "Mental Imagery." 

Carus,— The Soul of Man, p. 281 f., "The Reality of Dreams." . 

Stout, — Analytic Psychology, V, II, p. 265 ff., "Influence of Im- 
agination on Conduct." 

James, — Psychology, V, II, Ch. XVIII, "Imagination." 

American Journal of Psychology, Jan. 1905, "A Study of 
Dreams." 



MEMORY. 51 



CHAPTER IV. 
MEMORY. 

"Where were you at this hour on the first day of the 
month?" you are asked. "Let me see/' you reply; "oh, 
yes, the 1st came on Sunday; I was in Kansas City that 
day, visiting a friend. It is now five o'clock. Well, at 
that precise hour I was waiting at the Union Station to 
take my train for home, which was due to leave at 5 : 10. 
My friend and I met a mutual acquaintance there, and 
we were trying to recall a previous New Year's Day that 
would equal the present one in mildness." 

This conversation involves a typical illustration of the 
act of memory. After some little preliminary effort the 
day of the week was recalled, and the fact that the first 
day of the month in question was New Year's Day. This 
done, and the entire situation came back with a rush. The 
recollection and recognition of things seen and heard 
and felt quickly come to consciousness. 

Definition. — Memory is an act of the mind whereby 
one recalls some previous experience and recognizes it as 
such. By some means the mind retains what it has once 
experienced, then recalls it to consciousness, then recog- 
nizes it as previous experience. There is a further possible 
step, viz,, a reference to the particular time and place in 
which it occurred. One can readily understand how 
closely perception, imagination and memory are united. 
The feature that distinguishes memory from imagination 



52 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

is recognition. Of course, perception is the beginning 
of them both. But without the recognitive element, the 
imagination might go on reproducing the former experi- 
ence for any length of time and yet no such thing as mem- 
ory would be possible. 

There is a kind of memory which, if it operates at all, 
often seems to require no effort. For instance, the answer 
to the question, ''When was America discovered?" ap- 
pears in consciousness quick as a flash. This has been 
called desultory memory. If the memory act is that of 
recalling an exact quotation of some length, it is some- 
times difficult to start it. After that the remainder is 
easy. 

The Brain Processes in Memory. — In some way, we 
know not how, the thing perceived impresses itself upon 
the brain cells. The author once saw twin brothers of 
striking appearance on a steamboat. Accompanying this 
act of seeing these men there was evidently some kmd of 
process in the brain tissue. Their peculiar appearance, 
the place of meeting them and many minor conditions 
were naturally thought of. Two years later I again saw 
these twins, in Chicago, conducting a gospel meeting, and 
immediately recognized them, — recalling the circumstances 
of the first meeting. The sight of the men brought it all 
back. Why and how? The theory is that at the first 
perception there were "paths" of excitation opened up 
through the brain, and that, as they were all united by 
the one act of perception, the recalling of any one of the 
elements of the perception would bring the others to mem- 
ory. The law is that objects once associated in the mind 
always tend to come back to consciousness together; the 
excitation once again being started in the brain "path" 



MEMORY. 53 



made by the one, naturally flows over into that made by 
the other. It is worth while noting here that the more 
objects or facts one can associate in consciousness with a 
given object, the easier it may be. recalled. 

The Nature of Association. — Just sit still for a minute 
or two and let your mind wander whithersoever it pleases. 
Then try to trace back the path of your consciousness to 
the point of beginning, and note the vast number of ideas 
that have occupied a place in your mind during the brief 
interval of time. It may be possible during this short 
time for one's thoughts to encircle the globe and to take 
cognizance of events accredited to prehistoric ages. It 
is more likely, however, under such conditions, that the 
course of one's thoughts will be more suggestive of a zig- 
zag path ; and that the list of topics entertained, if written 
down one after the other, would form " a ridiculous array 
of. conglomerate incongruities." 

Consciousness Under Direction. — Now, try the ex- 
periment of directing your thoughts toward some pro- 
posed end. Let us say that you try to make out carefully 
a program of the work you expect to undertake tomor- 
row. It is evident that in this case the span of your con- 
sciousness is much narrower than it was in that above, 
and that there is a closer connection or relation between 
the several steps in the process. The incongruous ideas, 
such as constituted the whole of consciousness in the first 
experiment, are observed to have a very dim aspect in 
the second one. But these irrelevant ideas were present 
in the latter nevertheless, and many of them would have 
doubtless become more prominent had the purpose of 
the thinking been suddenly dismissed, 



54 PSYCHOLOGY. AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The Cerebral Law. — The best authorities are agreed 
that the law underlying association is that of neural habit. 
In reverie, one's thoughts take the course they do because 
of the fact that the neural excitation seems to run through 
the brain paths in the order of their closest and most fre- 
quent association in past experience. The factors of 
recency and vividness, the latter bemg in some way con- 
nected with emotional preference, must also be considered 
as partially determining association. Under vividness 
there would have to be classed those insignificant experi- 
ences of childhood which seem to pop into consciousness 
upon the slightest invitation. For example: A moment 
ago, the author glanced up from his writing and noticed 
the title of a song, ^'Oh, Come With Me." Immediately 
there came to him a little old rhyme learned at school 
when a smaU boy. It was in McGuffey's Second Reader, 
and ran like this : 

"Oh, come with me 
And we will go 
And try the winter's cold, sir; 
It freezes now 
And soon will snow, 
But we are tough and bold, sir." 

Again, there were repeated to him the lines from Shelley's 
"Cloud": 

"I bring fresh showers for the thirsty flowers 
From the seas and the streams ; 
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
In their noonday dreams." 

At once there occurred the memory of a paternal admoni- 
tion often heard during boyhood at about the noon-hour 
in the summer-time, and which was usually expressed in 
the words, "We have no time for noonday dreams." 
Now, these two examples seem to furnish a suggestion 



MEMORY. 55 



for further explanation of association. In either case 
there is an overlapping of the two expressions associated. 
Hence, this mighl be called the law of partial identity. 
The brain process excited by the line" from Shelley and 
that of the admonition to work run together on '' noonday 
dreams." The one thus calls up the other. And thus 
all so-called associated ideas seem to be linked together, 
and to be likely to come up together in consciousness- 
Their neural paths are either identical for a brief space, 
or they at least cross one another. 

The meaning of association as related to memory will 
become apparent in the discussion that follows. 

Memory Culture.-^— The retentiveness of memory va- 
ries with age. During early life the brain is said to be 
more plastic and more suspectible to permanent impres- 
sions. Early life is pre-eminently the time for memoriz- 
ing, especially in a desultory manner. It is especially 
important that one form good memory habits and prac- 
tice good methods of remembering whUe he is in the grow- 
ing period of life. 

It may be said that there are as many different kinds 
of memory as there are classes of sense perceptions, but 
one usually remembers best in terms of the sense he uses 
best and most. One says, ''I remember the appearance 
of the man's face but can't recall the sound of his voice." 
Another makes a statement directly the converse. And 
then, there are memories of persons and places and names, 
each operating in its own peculiar way. In fact, nearly 
every one has a good memory for something. It usually 
depends, among other things, on what one is interested 
in and what he devotes his attention to most earnestly, 
A certain young woman of about 21 years could name at 



56 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

sight about 1000 students (nearly every one in college), 
and yet she was such a failure as a student that she had 
to be dismissed, fler memory for text-book work was 
very defective. 

Attention a Factor. — One of the greatest factors in 
memorizing is attention. He who carefully concentrates 
his consciousness upon one and only one object of con- 
sideration at a time, has the memory problem pretty 
well solved. The young woman referred to above had a 
method of learning names. This practice seemed to fasci- 
nate her. She would stand in the hall as the students 
filed by and have some friend tell her as many names as 
possible. Then, she would be seen later operating at an- 
other place in one of the buildings with a different ''helper." 
She threw her whole soul into the task, and for that rea- 
son success was easily attained. 

I have in mind one of the greatest of living philosophers. 
His memory for the historical facts and the theories in 
connection with his own subject seems to draw upon an in- 
exhaustible source of siipply. Yet this great man scarcely 
ever pretends to learn the names of any of his students. 
A long-standing habit of non-attention to the names and 
peculiarities of persons probably accounts for this fact. 

One soon becomes confirmed in certain fixed habits of 
memory. The writer of these lines early in life formed 
the habit of trying to solve all ordinary arithmetical prob- 
lems mentally. The favorite time and place for this work 
was at early morning before getting out of bed. His mem- 
ory for long strings of figures is still very active. But an- 
other early habit of paying no attention to the names of 
persons with whom he became acquainted has always 
been a source of annoyance and embarrassment to him. 



MEMORY. 57 



A Systematic Mind. — A person's type of memory is 
really one of his traits of character; and, to him of poor 
memory for names of people, let us say, there is some 
consolation in the thought that such may be inherited. 
It is small business, however, for one to blame his an- 
cestors for all his weaknesses and to claim personal credit 
for all his strong points of character. Those poof an- 
cestors doubtless had troubles enough of their own. The 
fact is, one can, if he will persist in trying to do so, largely 
overcome the bad-memory habit, — especially if he takes 
hold of the matter in time. How so? 

Determined, persistent, conscious effort, coupled with 
a systematic method of procedure, does the work every 
time. Try it, and you will be surprised at your success. 
A certain high-school principal determined at thirty years 
of age to try to strengthen his supposedly poor memory 
for literary quotations: thirty minutes devoted every 
evening regularly for about one month to this work en- 
abled him to commit an entire stanza of Shelley's "Cloud," 
after two or three readings. 

Memorizing Literature. — In memorizing a literary se- 
lection one should, if possible, read it entirely through each 
time ivithout hesitation till the whole piece begins to come to 
view in the memory. The story of the boy who tried to 
recite "Marco Bozzaris" and stuck at "Greece her knee," 
could have very good psychological foundation in fact. 
The ordinary boy, in reading the piece, would stop just at 
that place in order to make out the meaning and pronun- 
ciation of the word "suppliance," that follows. A little 
observation will show that the memory "balks" at the 
place where a break of any kind is made in the committing 
of the selection. If one commits the piece in parts and theri 



58 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

puts the parts together, the memory scarcely ever runs 
smoothly over the places of uniting. 

Forgetting. — Too many students try to prepare their 
lessons on the run. Such a practice is both destructive to 
memory and disheartening. It pays better in the end to 
take less work and do it better. Hurry and rush in the 
daily lesson preparations is a sure method of training one 
to forget. In case of the ordinary lesson^ there are only a 
few points worth remembering. The many trivial facts 
and incidents ought to slip through the mind and be for- 
gotten at once. The few important points might well be 
marked with a pencil, or put into an outline and related 
to one another and to the whole treatment of facts in a 
logical manner. 

It is the bane of some people's lives (and yours, too, if 
you are compelled to listen to them) , that they cannot for- 
get trivialities. They undertake to relate an incident and 
soon run off on a tangent of little insignificant trifles, never 
to return to the main thread of the story. "Bore " is the 
proper name for such persons. 

Logical Arrangement. — So long as one regards the 
mind as a storehouse in which facts and figures are to be 
laid away for ready reference, he is missing sight of the 
proper goal of memory. Every fact remembered ought to 
have a logical place in a system of facts. It ought to be 
related by some form of logical association, to the greatest 
possible number of other facts, so that there will be a great 
number of "cues" for its recall. 

If one is to have a retentive memory, he ought, in every 
case possible, to put theory into practice. Think how long 
it would take one to learn how to build a house by merely 
reading descriptions of how it is to be done, It is almost 



MEMORY. 59 



impossible to learn retentively from mere abstract discus- 
sions and descriptions. Fortunately, our modern labo- 
ratory methods are obviating the necessity of continu- 
ing the old-time practice of abstract teaching. Under this 
practical kind of realization of theory the work of mem- 
orizing is reduced to a minimum. Instead of the mental 
labor and strain of retaining a bare theory or explanation, 
the hands and feet and muscles of the body are put through 
the process of doing the work so often that they do the re- 
membering. 

A Clear Understanding. — So, often, a defect in mem- 
ory is traceable to a lack of understanding of the meaning 
and concrete application of the thing to be learned. Take 
the algebraic rule for multiplication: The product of the 
sum and difference of two quantities equals the difference 
of their squares. This rule is easily retained in the degree 
that its application is understood. The arithmetic student 
who remembers best the rule for finding the area of a tri- 
angle (take one-half the product of the base and altitude) 
is thoroughly familiar with the reasons why such a rule 
applies. Many a young student of German fails to grasp the 
full meaning of the definition of a transitive verb. So he 
goes on blundering, depending merely on his verbal mem- 
ory. 

The true inference from the last paragraph above is that 
the best form of memory-training is obtained through a full 
and complete understanding of the rule or proposition — as 
the case may be — to be memorized. Many young teachers, 
and some older ones, err at this very point, and then charge 
the deficit up to the "poor memory" of the pupil. Illus- 
tration, example, application, — these should be the most 
familiar words in the vocabulary of the teacher. How 



60 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

often might the small boy appropriately say, ''You never 
teached me!" while the vague, abstract discussion given 
by the teacher goes sauntering out at the back door of his 
memory. If there is anything that the average boy grows 
mentally lean on, it is the merely abstract form of teaching. 
Emotion and Memory. — How well you older readers 
remember that old playground of your childhood where — 

"The sportive winds had called you 
To chase the butterflies, 
And the white clouds floated o'er you 
Like dream-ship in the skies!" 

You enjoyed it so, and you remember, ah! so well, that 
soft, sweet musical note — 

"When the brown-thrush sung of the summer dawn 
To the bee in the billowy clover, 
Or down by the mill the whippoorwill 
Echoed his night-song over." 

It thrilled your soul. And you recall so vividly that scene 
in later life when that spirit so much higher and diviner 
than your own touched you so gently, and in substance — 

"Told to you the story 

Of the mystery of the years. 
And when you tvirned to answer, 

How your eyes were filled with tears." 

There was such deep sympathy and compassion in it all. 
Here memory finds another ally in emotional interest. 
To feel a glowing wave of enthusiasm for the task at hand, 
to engender in yourself a passionate fondness for following 
the ins and outs of a complex mathematical problem, to 
feel repeatedly a thrill of satisfaction and delight at the 
revelations of the science you are pursuing, to get into 
such close and sympathetic touch with the spirit of growth 
9;nd development that you can perceive " Tongues in trees^ 



MEMORY. 61 



books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in 
everything," — all these bespeak such an emotional atti- 
tude toward the various objects of experience and learning 
that good memory is an easy and natural consequence. 

Memory and Nerve Energy. — Let me reinforce this 
whole argument with another cross-reference to the nerv- 
ous organism. To have a retentive memory means to be 
in good physical health and to possess a large fund of sur- 
plus nerve-energy. Lassitude, depleted health, or "wear- 
iness of the flesh" of any other kind, on the contrary means 
loss of memory. Too many students are neglectful of 
their health, that is, of the perfect health that might be 
theirs and that would contribute so much to their perma- 
nent stock of learning, "Midnight oil," late carousing, 
and the use of such stimulants as tobacco may be satis- 
fying in a way, but they are deadly foes of a good memory. 
And then, one needs only to visit a dozen students' study- 
rooms to be made aware of the great amount of careless- 
ness in ventilation. From this evil the system suffers on 
account of lack of the oxygen supply and there is languor 
and sluggishness in the blood circulation. Again memory 
is a heavy loser. 

"Cramming." — The question of cramming for exam- 
ination ought to be mentioned in this connection, for the 
student who "wastes his substance in riotous living" is 
the one most likely to try to prepare himself for the final 
examinations during the last two days (and nights) of the 
term. A serious, careful review of a subject before trying 
to pass it, is praiseworthy. But notice the exact meaning 
of the word "review." The student who "crams" is not 
reviewing, but is often trying to acquire a first knowledge 
of the subject in too brief a time. As a consequence, there 



62 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

is a great strain on the nervous system, while the mind 
is being overburdened with a mass of undigested material. 
Such hasty work gives no time to assimilate mentally the 
points to be learned, and so they are usually forgotten 
within a week or two after examination. 

The student who resorts to this unworthy method of 
preparation may "get through" the' subject, but it can be 
pretty safely predicted that the future holds some kind of 
pimishment in reserve for him. It is often pathetic to 
witness the efforts of such a student later in life while he is 
vainly trying to secure or hold a position wherein nothing 
but true worth and merit wUl suffice. Nothing but an 
orderly, every-day pursuit of a subject will give to each new 
point acquired time to take its logical place among the 
facts already known, and enable the student to develop a 
masterful memory of the subject-matter. 



REFERENCES. 



1. Dewey, — Psychology, Ch. VI, "Memory"; "Association," pp. 
90-113. 

Smith, — Systematic Methodology, Ch. IV, "Memory." 

Hoffman,— -Psychology and Common Life, Ch. Ill, "How and 
What We Remember." 

Titchener, — Primer of Psychology, p. 187 f., "The Three Stages 
of Remembering." 

James, — Psychology, Briefer Course, Ch. XVIII, "Memory"; Ch. 
XVI, "Association." 

Gordy,— Psychology, Ch. XXV, "Memory," pp. 196-207. 

2. Baldwin, — Mental Development, "Association," pp. 279 fif.; 
361 ff.; 459 flf. 

Hoffding, — Psychology, Ch. V, "Association." 



HABIT— ITS NATURE. 63 



CHAPTER V. 
HABIT — ITS NATURE. 

Fold a sheet of letter-paper carefully, as if to insert it 
into an envelope. Now unfold it and smooth it out, if possi- 
ble, as it was at first. ''Impossible!" you say; ''the 
creases persist in showing themselves." Very well. Let 
those creases represent habits, and good habits, too, for 
they are symmetrical and serve a good purpose, — that of 
preparing the sheet to fit into the envelope nicely. Now 
fold another sheet very irregularly — any way, just so it 
is folded. Here you have more creases, other habits 
represented, but bad ones this time, for the form will not 
fit into the envelope. You will find, moreover, that these 
irregular creases are just as persistent as the others. 
That is, good habits and bad habits have the same natural 
tendency — they tend to stay just what they are, and to 
resist any change in their forms. 

Definition. — A habit is any act, mental or physical, 
that, as a result of repetition, tends to go on in a certain 
fixed form. This fact is accounted for by reference to 
the nature of the nervous system. If one performs a 
physical act of any kind, it is accompanied by a nerve- 
act, or a brain-act, which opens a "pathway" for the dis- 
charge of nerve-energy. The next performance of the 
physical act is easier, as the channel is now open for the 
flow of the nerve-energy. Later performances will re- 
quire even less effort, for the channel, to speak figuratively, 
is all the time being worn smoother. The longer a habit 



64 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

goes on unchecked the more natural it becomes and the 
greater the difficulty in changing it. 

Further Definition of Habit. — "Life is a bundle of 
habits." Habit is ten times nature. "As the twig is 
bent, the tree is inclined." These are familiar quotations 
which refer to the nature of habit. Rosenkranz has de- 
fined it, rather abstractly, as "A feeling of the identity 
of the self with the special character of anything done or 
endured by it." It seems scarcely necessary to try to 
give another one-sentence definition of the subject. It 
is well, however, before proceeding further, to note three 
important characteristics: (1) Habit is something ac- 
quired by practice; (2) It tends to persist in going on in 
the way in which it has been started; (3) It is indifferent 
as to its subject-matter. 

The last statement, that habit is indifferent as to its 
subject-matter, needs explanation. The first paragraph 
of this chapter illustrates the meaning here intended. 
The sheet of paper, in so far as its own nature is concerned, 
may be folded in the wrong way or the right way with 
equal facility. It is indifferent as to the manner of fold- 
ing. So with habit. In so far as its nature is concerned, 
— that is, the nature of the nervous mechanism, — a good 
habit or a bad one may be formed with equal ease and 
readiness. 

The Question of Interest. — Just as soon, however, as 
an intelligent being becomes interested in forming one 
kind o# habit in preference to another kind, this' indiffer- 
ence disappears. One sees that a certain form of conduct 
will be advantageous, will help him in accomplishing his 
purposes; so he helps that form to become habitual. He 
believes, on the contrary, that a certain other form of 



HABIT- ITS NATVEE. 65 

conduct, if allowed to go on, will develop into a bad or 
disadvantageous habit ; so he hinders it. 

It appears therf, other things being equal, that habits 
of conduct and of thinking will develop along the line of 
one's interests; and that all that needs to be done is to 
have his interest cUrected in the right way and his char- 
acter (/'bundle of habits") will be formed accordingly. 
But character formation, either fortunately or unfor- 
tunately, is not nearly so simple a matter. Other things 
are not equal. Some habits gain a great advantage over 
others on account of inheritance. 

The Question of Inheritance. — People are by no means 
all alike at birth, but are born with predispositions to form 
habits of one kind more readily than another. This is 
perhaps more readily seen in the case of animals. The 
offspring of the heavy draught-horse is never expected 
to develop readily into habits of movement that belong 
to the horse of pacing or trotting strain. It is not in 
accordance with his nature. But he will easily and natur- 
ally^ take up habits that pertain to drawing heavy loads. 
The young bulldog early falls into habits of surliness and 
pugnacity, while his young companion of the shepherd- 
dog variety takes more readily to acts suggesting a kind 
and gentle disposition. It is the nature of the brute, in 
each case, that is asserting itself; and this nature is in- 
herited. Many more such examples could be given. 

So it is with man. The child is likely to inherit not only 
much that is peculiar in the physical form and movement 
of its parents and more remote ancestors, but also many 
of the mental traits. ''A child's education begins two 
hundred years before he is born," says Dr. Holmes. ''Like 



66 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



father, like son/' is another familiar quotation. "Blood 
will tell/' is another. Often a peculiar mark of a man's 
character will crop out in a grandchild or a great-grand- 
child in a manner just as pronounced. 

Jukes — Edwards. — Dr. A. E. Winship has written 
a book that every thoughtful young person ought to read. 
It is entitled "Jukes — ^Edwards/' and in it he traces the 
histories of two families for several generations. The 
Jukes family has contained many members, all of whom 
were directly descended from a very vicious woman who 
lived some two centuries ago. Of these, some were hanged, 
many more imprisoned for life, and a much greater num- 
ber have served shorter sentences. It has cost the various 
municipalities vast sums of money to prosecute these 
criminals. They have brought untold suffering on those 
whom they have wronged. The Edwards family is about 
the same age as that of the Jukes, but the record is of a 
directly opposite nature. Ministers, philanthropists and 
public men of note have predominated in this case. 

Estimate the Situation. — No wide diversion from the 
subject of this chapter is intended here. It is meant to 
indicate, by reference to these family records, the fact 
that inheritance is a very large factor in the development 
of character, as its influence makes the formation of cer- 
tain habits so much easier and more natural than others. 
A proper understanding of the matter will give the youth 
an idea of the nature of some of the battles he is likely 
to have to fight in his own character formation. If the 
matter is judiciously presented by those in charge of his 
education, he will he, inspired to victory, too. 

Forms of Habit. — As to form, habit is (a) active, (6) 
passive. Every manner of dexterity, readiness of skill 



HABIT— ITS NATURE!. 67 

and of mformation would be classed as active, while such 
acquired attitudes as stateliness of bodily posture and 
composure of mind might be given as examples of the pas- 
sive kind. The acquisition of the so-called active habits 
belongs distinctively to the time of childhood and youth. 
Some forms of passive habit are both later and slower 
taking form. For instance, poise of mind, serenity, and 
the like, are characteristics of the mature, scholarly person. 

Automatisms. — There are many little idiosyncrasies 
that might be enumerated here, such as biting the finger- 
nails, toying with the watch-chain, as examples of the ac- 
tive form; and day-dreaming, and staring into vacancy, 
of the passive form. • These are sometimes called " autom- 
atisms," as they take place more or less automatically and, 
as a rule, unconsciously. These automatisms serve as an 
outlet for the overflow of nervous energy. In fact, they 
often do more than that : they become a means of draining 
off and depleting the nervous energy that ought to be used 
in carrying on some more valuable work of a mental or 
physical character. 

As more concrete illustrations of these peculiar types 
there might be mentioned a well-known society woman 
who, in her own language, was ''partial to a rocker," and 
who would sit and rock while sewing or reading or talking, 
and that in a mamier so vigorous as to wear away more 
nervous energy than a hard day's physical labor would 
require. A second case of my personal observation was 
that of a young man, a college student, who would sit and 
whistle and hum a tune alternately, and tap with his fin- 
gers and toes while trying to study his geometry lesson 
(and doubtless other lessons). A third instance was that 
of a young woman who would stand or sit and stare va- 



68 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

cantly in a sort of spellbound manner, for a half-hour at a 
time. All of these, and many similar automatisms that 
might be named, are merely forms of dissipation and waste 
of nerve energy. They are simply bad habits that ought 
to be broken. 

Unconscious Nature of Habits. — So far very little has 
been said as to the unconscious nature of habit, except by 
implication. It is desired to emphasize that fact here. 
Every thoroughly acquired habit is more or less uncon- 
scious, and it goes on so quietly and with such slight friction 
that we are not likely to be aware of it. For instance, I 
wind my watch every night before retiring, and am scarcely 
ever aware of the act. Nearly every one puts on a certain 
shoe first and draws on some garment in a fixed manner, 
unconsciously. The steps we take in walking and the 
words we use in conversation are really forms of well-fixed 
habit. 

Physical Nature of Habit. — Habit may be developed 
in any animal that can be trained. Because of having 
been halted once or twice at a certain ravine crossing, a 
horse formed the habit of balking at this place. A herd of 
cattle that were salted regularly every Sunday afternoon at 
a fixed location, soon manifested a knowledge of the day of 
the week by assembling at that place at the appointed 
time without being called. Force yourself to take a drink 
of water every morning immediately after rising, and in a 
short time your system will crave it. You are likely" ac- 
customed to eating three meals a day at regular intervals. 
Change this to either two or four meals per day taken at 
regular intervals, and after ten days' practice you will be- 
come hungry at the newly appointed hours. 



HABIT— ITS NATURE. 69 

In the case of every habit, the character of the organism 
seems to be modified to suit the new conditions. As stated 
above, figuratively speaking there is a new pathway of 
discharge formed in the nerve-cells. This seems to be- 
come a " path of least resistance " in case the act is repeated 
so that it continues naturally and easily. This discussion 
suggests a curious thing with reference to some forms of 
disease. That is, by suffering from a certain disease once, 
one becomes more liable to a second attack. Such an ail- 
ment, as in the case of habit, seems to open up a path of 
least resistance. For instance, persons who suffer from a 
cold are usually afflicted in a certain manner : some in the 
head or nose, others in the throat, still others in the lungs. 
If pneumonia once results there is much greater probability 
of its return. Some physician has suggested that children 
ought especially to be kept from taking cold, so that such 
resulting ailments as croup and tonsilitis might not be- 
come a matter of habit. 

Life a System of Habits. — Attention might be called 
to the fact here that character is not so much a bimdle of 
habits as a system of habits. As one grows more mature 
his conduct in life tends to become more and more orderly 
and rhythmical. • That is, his whole round of daily life be- 
comes more habitual. A little observation will show that 
in this he is really obeying a law of much wider application, 
namely, a law of all nature. In the systole and diastole 
of the human heart, the ceaseless ebb and flow of the ocean 
tide, the regularly alternating seasons of the year, and the 
harmonious revolutions of the heavenly bodies, one sees 
suggestions of one great rhythmic law whose Maker is the 
Ruler of the Universe. 



70 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

REFERENCES. 

1. James, — Briefer Course, Ch. X, "Habit." 

Royce, — Outline of Psychology, "Our Social Habits and their 
Significance," pp. 276-298. 

Halleck, — Psychology and Psychic Culture, pp. 348 ff . 

Gordy,— New Psychology, "The Law of Habit," pp. 183-195. 

S. Bowne, — ^Introduction to Psychologic Theory, Ch. Ill, pp. 
81-89, "A Theory of Representation of Thoughts," etc. 

James, — Psychology, Ch. IV, "Habit." 

Baldwin, — Mental Development, "The Law of Associated Habit," 
pp. 242 ff. 



HABIT— ITS CULTURE. 71 



CHAPTER VI. 

HABIT — ITS CULTURE. 

The Story of A. B. — It was once my privilege to wit- 
ness a great battle, a fierce hand-to-hand fight between 
two, and it lasted for a long time before a fatal blow ended 
it forever. The two contestants were — who do you sup- 
pose? — a bright, energetic young man and a ferocious 
cigarette habit that had seized him by the throat. Yes, 
literally by the throat, and it was badly ulcerated. The 
story is a pathetic one, but as it is also representative 
of a certain type of boys, I will outline it here. 

A. B., as I shall call him, when about eight years old 
fell in with a '^ back-alley gang" of boys, who taught him 
the art of cigarette-smoking. Being quick in the ac- 
quisition of new learning, A. B. was soon an adept at this 
new art. He was visibly proud of it, too, and thoroughly 
enjoyed the new companionships and the new experi- 
ences it brought him. Of course this new practice was 
kept secret from his parents — ^for why should it concern 
them? But there came a day of reckoning. At the age 
of about fourteen, this boy, who had led his classes so 
easily, began to show signs of indifference to his studies, 
and of moroseness. He had a bad color and a glassy look 
in his eyes, and often betrayed uneasiness of mind. There 
came then a crisis in his life, for his parents became aware 
of his true condition. So did the boy come to himself. 

The battle was on, fierce and furious. For over six 
years the fiend had been tightening his clutches. A, B. 



72 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

still claimed with feigned indifference, while among the 
boys, that ''he could quit if he wanted to, but he didn't 
want to." But I saw clearly that he couldn't, and he 
knew it. He came into my office and implored for help, 
while he prayed and cried and swore by turns; and then 
went out and — smoked again to drown his misery. Shortly 
after this he left school on account of failure in his studies, 
and drifted about for three years, occupying the time 
mostly with smoking and having the "blues" and fight- 
ing the fiend in a sort of feeble, despairing way. No 
method of reform known to this poor victim seemed to 
avail anything, It seemed almost as if an act of kind 
Providence were at work when this boy was suddenly 
killed in a railway accident. 

It would be an exaggeration to say that the average 
case of the youthful cigarette-smoking habit turns out as 
seriously as that of A. B., but there is much authority 
for saying that every boy who becomes thoroughly ad- 
dicted to this habit is, in some way, permanently injured. 

A Matter of Temperament. — The fact that people 
vary so in temperament makes it practically impossible 
to deal with them by rule. Each one is likely to respond 
in his own peculiar way to attractions of good and allure- 
ments of evil. Habits therefore attach themselves to 
different people, even after equal amounts of practice, 
with varying degrees of tenacity. There are sometimes 
recognized four classes of temperament. Professor Titch- 
ener characterizes them about as follows : 

1. Choleric, or "nervous," characterized by quickness 
of thought and depth of emotion. 

2. Sanguine, quick in thought and weak or slow in 
emotional response. 



HABIT— ITS CULTURE. 73 

3. Phlegmatic, which thinks slowly and deliberately 
and feels weakly. 

4. Melancholic, jMnks deliberately and feels deeply. 
It is usually the pei'son of choleric temperament, so 

mentally alert, and so easily intoxicated with emotional- 
ism, that rmis quickly to extremes in the direction of either 
good or bad habits, whichever he may chance to take up". 
He does nothing by halves. 

The sanguine temperament is characteristic of a cool, 
calculating type of mind, which renders decisions merely 
on intellectual groimds, and sticks to them. Such an one 
is not likely to take up habits of excessive conduct of any 
kind. 

The phlegmatic temperament belongs to the slow-going 
plodder, who pursues an even course of life. The habits 
he acquires are such as happen to come his way. His 
character becomes fixed at an early period, and after that 
his mode of conduct is likely to change very little. 

The person of melancholic temperament is subject to 
'' distractions." Being slow at thinking, he jumps at 
conclusions, allowing his imagination to take the place of 
logical judgment. Hence he is often wrong in his infer- 
ences and difficult to convince of his error. His char- 
acteristic habit is likely to be that of having a "fad" for 
every change of the season. 

Habit and Society. — The unvarying nature of habit 
in people accounts for the relatively fixed character of 
society. By becoming acquainted with the type of char- 
acter and the vocation of a people, one can make a fair 
estimate of how they will conduct themselves on a given 
occasion. If it were not for this tendency in people to 
continue in a fixed course of action, one would never 



74 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

know, when in a crowd, whether a pitched battle or a 
prayer-meeting might break out. But, under actual cir- 
cumstances, one may estimate, for example, just about 
what he would find if he called at a country town or village 
on Saturday afternoon in summer. 

On this occasion one would find farmers and farmers' 
wives standing about in small groups chatting in their 
characteristic way, while their sons and daughters would 
be doing a little bashful '^ sparking" on the side. The 
sprightly town lad and miss, who happened to be passing 
by, could be distinguished from their country cousins by 
a score of different mannerisms. So it is with various 
society groups. Each has characteristics peculiar to itself, 
and, under given circumstances, each will manifest a type 
of conduct that can be forecasted with considerable ac- 
curacy. 

Consciously Acquired Habits. — It should be remem- 
bered here, and left for a later discussion, that nearly all 
the habits and mannerisms of society, such as have been 
described above, may be merely the result of imitation, 
and that of a more or less unconscious nature. It is now 
time to say something about the conscious acquisition of 
habit with reference to one's own character in an ideal 
way. The wise youth is the one who is conscious of the 
necessity of giving attention to the formation of those 
habits which may be to his advantage, and to the discon- 
tinuance of those that are of an opposite nature. 

The Early Foundation.— The foundation of character 
is laid in infancy and early childhood. The little, seem- 
ingly insignificant acts are the materials of this foundation. 
So great is the amount of skill, tact and patience required 
for this work that only experience will lead to an appreci- 



HABIT— ITS CULTURE. 75 

ation of it. The average child is so plastic that new habits 
may be formed and afterwards broken in a comparatively 
brief time. The spoiled child usually results in a spoiled 
man. Try to satisfy every little desire or whim of the 
child, '' because it's too soon to try to train him, you know," 
and the chances are that he will be a slave to some kind of 
animal passion when he becomes a man. But the child 
that is trained in the performance of such little acts as 
laying away his playthings before going to bed, taking 
his meals at regular intervals, and saving a part of the 
pennies that are given him, — this child will have a decided 
advantage in the experiences of mature life. 

Experience a Necessary School. — The experiences of 
the little child ought to be as varied as possible. Ex- 
perience is the only school in which he can learn. Many 
of the little acts of skUl and dexterity he acquired during 
his play period may of necessity be dropped for years, but 
the nerve-impress remains, and it will be there all ready to 
guide some act of a similar nature later in life. Let me ex- 
plain by example just what I mean. Give a little four-year- 
old boy a toy hammer and let him have free use of it for a 
few weeks, till he is skillful in driving nails in soft wood; 
then take the tool from him till he is twenty, or even older. 
My point is that his dexterity will come back to him much 
more readily than it would come to the twenty-year-old 
youth who has never had any early experience in the use 
of the hammer. 

Storing Up Habits. — This hammer story illustrates 
the whole range of childhood experiences. They are 
adaptations which will prove useful in future life, and 
which seem to be somehow stored away in the form of 
nerve-cell connections. The only caution that needs to 



76 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

be uttered here is that against too rapid development 
and too early training in some of the finer movements in- 
volving the use of the secondary muscles. Either of these 
is likely to result in nervousness and permanent injury to 
the child. For instance, writing is a very complex act, 
necessitating much nervous strain. Very little of it should 
be required of the child before about the eighth year. 

Breaking Old Habits. — In the usual case the breaking 
of an old habit involves the formation of a new one, for 
a new mode of response of some kind is likely required. 
Heroic effort is often necessary. ''Tapering off" will not 
suffice. Even a slight indulgence of a habit once thor- 
oughly formed will keep it alive. So the breaking away 
from an old habit should be abrupt and should be accom- 
panied by all the determination one can muster for the 
occasion. 

No Exceptions. — Allow no exceptions to occur under 
any circumstances. When one is quitting an old habit, 
he is so much inclined to say to himself, " Just once more 
won't hurt." But it does hurt, for it keeps the old desire 
alive, and, what is worse, it brings discouragement and loss 
of confidence. The despondent self-reformer is already on 
the backsliding road, for he is naturally filled with thoughts 
of "drowning his sorrow" by means of a returning to the 
old way. 

Guard the Thoughts. — Keep the old habit out of mind 
and you are saved. Thoughts beget deeds, so the only 
way to eradicate the old habit is to chase every thought 
of it out of the mind. No ordinary man can succeed in 
breaking the smoking habit if he sits around thinking how 
good the old pipe tastes. One should avoid every sug- 
gestion of the old error. I once watched, with interest. 



HABIT-ITS CULTURE. 77 



the efforts of a man about thirty-two years old to quit 
chewing tobacco. He carried a small plug in his pocket 
and would take it but and look at it and smell it occasion- 
ally, which "made his mouth w^ater." This was kept 
up for about two weeks, when one day the poor victim 
took "just a little to taper off on." That settled the mat- 
ter. In a very few days he was chewing harder than ever, 
to make up for lost time. 

A Call for Evidence. — It is the author's belief that 
the tobacco habit, when once thoroughly acquired, can 
never be absolutely broken. He hereby makes a call for 
reports of well-authenticated cases. So often, if the prac- 
tice is dropped, there is some other habit equally as ob- 
noxious substituted for it. But this is not a fair case of 
quitting. If a man quits chewing tobacco and takes up 
smoking, he has not reformed or really broken off a habit. 
He has simply modified it. If he discontinues the use of 
tobacco and acquires the use of some intoxicant, he has 
not really done anything heroic. Both these indulgences 
are in the interest of relieving that same uneasy feeling 
which he experiences when without either. 

Many a man, in his desperate effort to reform, has found 
it necessary to change his vocation and his environment in 
order to get away from the old temptation. This is an 
excellent method, but often a very inconvenient one. It 
stimulates new thoughts and makes it easier to forget 
the old mode of life. One had better run away from the 
old scenes if he can. 

Fleeing from Temptation. — A temperance lecturer 
of scholarly attainments and charming personality spent 
nearly a decade in different parts of Kansas, lecturing 
and preaching. He secured many temperance pledges 



78 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

and organized many a "band of hope" among the young. 
But he had a long early record of drunkenness and de- 
bauchery behind him, and he was going about and preach- 
ing temperance reform as the best means of keeping off 
the old tempter. At the age of about forty-five he went 
back to St. Joseph, Missouri, the scene' of his former 
degradation, thinking himself strong enough to with- 
stand temptation. Once again in the old familiar place, 
however, the old passion came back with terrible power 
and suddenness. It overmastered him. At last accounts 
he was a miserable drunken wretch, too weak ever to rise 
again, and he had also wrecked the lives of a beautiful 
wife and daughter. 

And so the highway of life is strewn with the wrecks of 
men, and women too, who thought they would reform after 
they had ''sown their wild oats," or who "could quit any 
time they wanted to." 

Forming New Habits. — There is a saying that "It is 
impossible to teach an old dog new tricks." So with old 
people — they are scarcely ever able to change their habits 
of their own accord, and often a forced change is fatal. 
It may be that your aged parents are " still working them- 
selves to death when they have a competence and ought 
to retire," but unless they have had considerable practice 
in quiet living along with strenuous affairs of life, it is 
altogether likely that retirement would bring neither 
happiness nor contentment. The shock resulting from 
the change often hastens the end of life. 

Time of Formation. — Personal habits are probably 
nearly all formed by the time one reaches twenty. In- 
tellectual ones continue to take form until thirty or thirty- 
five is reached, depending on many circumstances, chief 



HABIT— ITS CULTURE. 79 



of which is the vocation one follows. Professor Angell, 
of Chicago, says that some persons seem to be able to de- 
velop new brain cells as late as forty. Another writer 
declares that it is practically impossible for a man to 
have a new idea or to regard any subject from a new point 
of view after he is thirty years of age. This statement 
would likely apply to those who engage in industrial or 
commercial pursuits of a routine nature, but the person 
of studious habits doubtless continues to develop to a later 
age. 

Precocious Development. — The precocious child is 
likely to form all his intellectual habits very yomig. In 
the end, he is pretty sure to be a ''runt" both in body and 
intellect, with shallowness and superficiality for further 
marks of distinction. The best intellect will develop 
slowly and compactly, acquiring each form of mental 
habit in its logical order. To begin the fundamental sub- 
jects of education too late is also a serious error. Many 
instances of this kind have proven the futility of such 
procedure. It is pathetic to see a man of thirty vainly 
striving to master the rudiments of the common branches. 
By this time the mental habits of such a man are too 
thoroughly fixed for any such accomplishment, and he 
has to give up in despair. 

Self -Conscious Training. — Suppose one has deter- 
mined to acquire a new habit in the interest of better char- 
acter or work: how should he proceed? The first es- 
sential is to plan the beginning carefully; then make it a 
matter of serious concern and hend every effort toward suc- 
cess. Speak often and enthusiastically about the new 
habit. Think much about it. Fill the mind with the 
idea of it, and by all means permit no deviation from it to 



80 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

occur while it is new. Keep the mind busy constructing 
arguments in its behalf and contemplating the best re- 
sults of its operation. On the other hand, belittle the old 
habit which it is crowding out. 

An Illustration. — Nothing is better than a concrete 
illustration. Here is one: Suppose a college student has 
shiftless habits of study and has determined to form the 
new habit of applying his mind vigorously. His thoughts 
would run enthusiastically (part of the time audibly) about 
as follows : ''I can and will accomplish this work! I fully 
expect to study hard and faithfully, following my written 
program! Nothing shall stand in the way of my purpose! 
This task will grow easier as I proceed, and its accomplish- 
ment will bring me a certain reward. My instructors and 
my fellow-students will respect me more highly, and my 
relatives will be proud of the record I will make!" 

Let the dilatory student who is convinced of his error 
write out or think out some such series of statements as 
appears above and then act upon it with the enthusiasm 
of a fire-fighter, warding off every allurement to dissi- 
pation of energy. He is pretty certain to make the new 
habit stick. Some find an additional device helpful, such 
as studying with an open timepiece before one, or plan- 
ning beforehand to give each subject a certain amount of 
time, or preparing a pencil outline of each lesson as it is 
studied. 

Thought Habits and Entertainment. — One of the chief 
arguments for higher education (aside from the prac- 
tical one that it helps to make a living) is that it sup- 
plies the mind with such a complex variety of thought, 
thereby conducing to greater length of mental life and 
better entertainment. After the student period is passed 



HABIT— ITS CULTURE. 81 



the mind of the average person tends to narrow down to a 
few of the most interesting subjects of thought, and to a 
fixed manner of entertaining these subjects. If the course 
of study has not been somewhat broad and varied, the 
Httle monotonous roimd of ideas is Hkely to become nause- 
ating. 

Illiteracy. — The illiterate ignoramus has few ideas. 
Fortunately, however, he is growing ever scarcer in this 
country, where he is confined almost exclusively to the 
''backwoods district." Durmg the time he is at vvxrk 
his thoughts run aroimd in a little circle of very narrow 
compass. He thinks over the scenes of last Saturday 
night when he took his girl to the dance, then of the pros- 
pect of trading his old brown mare for a pair of roan ponies 
in the neighborhood, then of the Sunday-school picnic to 
be held m Johnson's grove a week from Wednesday, then 
of what he wiU probably have for dinner two hours hence, 
and then his thoughts swing back around to the scenes of 
last Saturday night and his girl, thus completing their 
little orbit. The next trip around is practically the same 
thing. Thus his trivial thoughts continue all day long, 
the monotony broken only by some more monotonous little 
jingling rhyme-tune, which keeps sort of whistling itself 
through his breath and keeping time to the rhythmic 
movements of the buck-saw or the axe : 

"All my feelin's in the spring 
Git so blamed contrary, 
I can't think of anything 
Only me and Mary." 

This story may be exaggerated, but I am sure that it 
illustrates roughly the tendency of mind of many a manual 
laborer. While he is guiding his hands in their work his 



82 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

thoughts are running at large and naturally traveling 
the brain paths of the very least resistance. Now, if a 
great multitude of these paths have been opened up thor- 
oughly by a broad education, and are kept open by good 
reading, his thoughts continue to function in an interest- 
ing variety of ways. 

Conclusion.^ — In conclusion, what shall we decide 
upon as the ideal condition with reference to habit ? Prob- 
ably it is something like this: (1) One should own and 
control his personal and intellectual habits to the extent 
that not one of them shall ever become so firmly fixed that 
he cannot modify it when the occasion demands. (2) In 
the interest of the condition named in number 1, a person 
should practice daily some little act that "goes against 
the grain" as we say. Thus does one make an ally of his 
entire nervous organism, and demonstrate beautifully 
the fact that truly to live is both a science and an art. 



REFERENCES. 

Angell, — Psychology, "The Formation of Habits," pp. 52 ff. 

Halleck, — Education of the Central Nervous System, "Cultivation 
of Habit," pp. 222-237. 

Royce, — Outlines of Psychology, "Consequences of Habit for 
Mental Life," pp. 235-247. 

Titchener, — Outline of Psychology, "Habit and Association," pp. 
220 ff. 

Baldwin, — Mental Development, "Suggestion as Habit," pp. 
165 flf. ; " Habit in Memory," pp. 292 ff. 



SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 83 



CHAPTER VII. 
SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 

The simple investigations recorded below are, of course, 
not far-reaching enough to be considered as scientific. 
Yet they were conducted with considerable care, and they 
are doubtless indicative of real conditions that are widely 
prevalent. For this reason, and for the further reason 
that they may be the means of aiding the young student 
in correctly estimating his ability to apply his mind and 
hand in study and work, they may be considered as pos- 
sessing some worth. It was observed that, in many cases, 
the students considered in these tests had never before 
been made conscious of their weaknesses. The tests were 
aU made at the Kansas Agricultural CoUege. 

I. A Test of Method. — It is now proposed to show 
the results of an investigation of the methods of study of 
over one hundred students. The test was planned care- 
fully by myself, the instructor; and the members of the 
psychology class who secured the data were given de- 
tailed instructions as to methods of procedure. Especial 
effort was made to remove every incentive for deception 
on the part of those questioned. It is believed that a 
fair measure of truth was secured in every case. 

In making this test fifty-eight young men and fifty- 
three yoimg women, one hundred eleven in all, were se- 
lected at random and asked the questions given below. 



84 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Among the number were thirty-two seniors, twenty-nine 
juniors, twenty-six sophomores, and twenty- three fresh- 
men. The questions follow : 

1. Do you follow any definite program of study and work 
during the average college dayf 

To this question twenty-three young men and twenty 
young women gave affirmative answers; twenty-five of 
the former and twenty-six of the latter gave negative 
answers; and ten of the former and seven of the latter 
gave doubtful answers. The doubtful ones could only 
show that they were pursuing an indefinite sort of method, 
and that intermittently. 

2. // you have a definite method, how is the time allotted 
to your several studies f Do you have a regular and fixed 
hour for each f 

Of the forty-three answering the first question affirma- 
tively, all prepared their lessons in a regular order, and 
seventeen divided the time, attempting to take up a cer- 
tain study at the same hour each day. Ten studied the 
most difficult lesson first, seven the easiest or most en- 
joyable first, and eight followed the order of the reci- 
tations. One young woman devoted her time chiefly to 
the lesson on which she would probably have to recite' 
the next day, and slighted the others. 

3. What advantage is there in your method f 

On this question those having a method were almost 
uniformly of the opinion that there resulted much better 
and more efficient work and a great saving of time. Only 
one answered "Not much." One of the members of the 
class making the investigation said in his summary: ''I 
noticed that the students who have a regular routine do 



SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 85 

much better work than those who do not." Others gave 
practically the sa^ie report. 

4. How do you deal with visitors who call during study 
hours f 

The answers to this question were somethnes amusing. 
Fifteen young men and seven young women testified in 
substance that they gave such visitors a "cold reception," 
while twenty-three of the former and thirty-seven of the 
latter '4aid aside work and treated them cordially." Vari- 
ous other answers were given. Seven young men were " not 
bothered with callers." One young woman said, "I turn 
them out and say good-night;" another, "I bring them 
in and treat them right." 

The question dealing with callers is rather a serious one 
for the average student. There are always located in the 
vicinity, loafers, who may be expected to call during the 
busiest hours. Such intruders are arnateur highwaymen, 
and should be summarily dealt with. There are a dozen 
tactful ways of forcing them out. Right here comes a 
test of character. To yield at this point, to a temptation 
to "lay aside work and be cordial," is indicative of weak- 
ness. 

5. Have you given this question of method of study any 
particular attention f 

The answers here were somewhat surprising. Only 
seventeen of the one hundred eleven (eight men and nine 
women) answered "yes," while seventy-three answered 
"no." The remaining twenty-one were either doubtful 
or undecided. There was much evidence in the answers 
that very few had put forth any conscious effort to solve 
this problem. Many of those who had an orderly plan 



86 



PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



of study were found to have developed it more of less un- 
consciously. Below is a summary : 





Male. 


Female. 


Total. 


Question 1. — Definite Program. 

1. Yes 


23 
25 
10 

23 
9 


20 
26 

7 

20 

8 


43 


2. No 


51 


3. Doubtful 

Question 2. — Order of Study. 

1. Regular order ■_•■.■, 


17 

43 
17 


3. Most difficult lesson first 


10 


4. Easiest lesson first 






7 








8 


Question 3. — Advantage of Method. 

1. Saving of time, better work, and the like 

2. N ot much 


22 

1 

15 
23 

7 

8 
37 
13 


20 

7 
37 

9 

36 

8 


42 
1 


Question 4. — Dealing with Visitors. 

1. Cold reception 


22 




60 


3. Not bothered 


7 


Question 5. — Previous Serious Thought onthe Subject.. 
1. Yes 


17 


2. No 


73 


3. Doubtful 


21 



* Numbers two, three, four and five are, of course, modifications of number 
one, question two. 

The students of this college, as a rule, are remarkably 
diligent and faithful in the performance of duty, but they 
lack greatly in method of study, and herein results a tre- 
mendous waste of time and energy. This investigation 
shows that the seniors average little or no better than the 
freshmen in point of method. Unless some unusual in- 
fluence is brought to bear upon them, the habits of study 
formed during the first year are continued throughout the 
course. 

It will be noted that over forty-five per cent, of those 
questioned had no regular method of study, while an addi- 
tional fifteen per cent, followed almost no plan. Only fif- 



SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 87 

teen per cent, had given the matter any definite attention, 
the others pursuing a plan having stumbled upon it uncon- 
sciously. 

Statistics will show that a majority of those who fail in 
life are industrious and enthusiastic enough, but they are 
lacking in a definite plan or method of procedure. 

To have forethought, to plan the work carefully before 
undertaking it, to be able to expend all one's energies day 
by day in the direction of effective effort, is to possess one 
of the highest qualifications for success. Here is the point 
at which many students are weakest. 

II. A Test of Attention. — Certain members of a class 
in psychology were directed each to take a suitable position 
in the libiary, and, by means of a watch concealed behind 
an open book, to keep a careful record of some student who 
pretended to be studying. An effort was made to mark 
on a sheet of paper the exact length of time occupied by the 
student in his successive efforts to study and the interrup- 
tions thereto. The investigators were urged to try to be 
unprejudiced in making the test and to make the situation 
the ordinary one. 

The problem was that of securing some estimate of the 
concentrative powers of the average student of the Kansas 
State Agricultural College. The subjects were selected 
at random, and there happened to be represented among 
them all the classes, from preparatory to graduate 
students. While these figures may not be exactly true 
to the second, they are sufficiently accurate to become a 
pretty fair index to the character of the work being done 
in the library, and they seem to indicate that the aver- 
age student of this college has not got very far beyond 



PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



the reflex stage of attention. The results are tabulated 
below : 



Table Showing 


THE 


Results op the Efforts 


OF Twelve Students 


to 




Read in the Librahy 












Total 


Total 


Total 


Efforts to Study. 


Interruptions. 


Subject. 


Length of 


Time 


Time 
























Test. 


Studied. 


Lost. 


No. 


Av. 


Lgth. 


No. 


Av. Lgth. 


Number 
and Sex. 


Min. 


Sec. 


Min. 


Sec. 


Min. 


Sec. 




Min. 


Sec. 




Min. 


Sec. 


1. M 


31 


52 


25 


55 


5 


57 


46 





34 


45 





8 


2. M 


31 


15 


21 


10 


7 


5 


18 


1 


10 


18 





23 


3. F 


45 





30 





15 





8 


3 


45 


8 


1 


52 


4. M 


33 





18 


30 


14 


30 


7 


2 


40 


6 


1 


25 


5. M 


18 


59 


12 


15 


6 


44 


11 


1 


5 


11 





37 


6. M 


28 


41 


21 


36 


7 


5 


18 


1 


12 


17 





23 


7. M 


22 


5 


19 


40 


2 


25 


6 


3 


16 


6 





25 


8. F 


23 


49 


20 


42 


3 


7 


26 





48 


25 





8 


9. M 


10 


15 


8 


45 


1 


30 


8 


1 


6 


8 





13 


10. M 


23 


45 


17 


45 


6 





12 


1 


29 


11 





33 


11. M 


34 


51 


31 


50 


3 


1 


16 


1 


69 


15 





12 


12. M 


22 


4 


15 


30 


6 


34 


12 


1 


19 


11 





36 



The table is self-explanatory. It shows for example, 
that during a period of about thirty- two minutes subject 
number one looked up from his book forty-five times and 
made forty-six separate efforts to get his mind on the les- 
son, the average length of time of the efforts being thirty- 
four seconds. In the majority of instances the subject 
looked up from the page in order to see who was passing. 
It is easy to see that the mind would not get a very clear 
idea of the subject treated, by this method of procedure. 
This is the worst case in the list ; but there is much room for 
improvement in the best of them. 

The two most significant facts emphasized by this test 
are: (1) The frequent break in the continuity of the 
thought of the student, and the necessary repetitions and 
stumblings in an effort to get the meaning of the printed 
page; and (2) the existence of a habit that becomes more 
fixed and more difficult to change the longer it is indulged. 



SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 89 

"WTiile this condition is very unfortunate, the students of 
this college are not necessarily to be censured, for very few 
of them have ever had an opportunity for any specific in- 
struction in the matter of voluntary attention. It is the 
opinion of the writer of this article that some very valuable 
instruction of this kind can be given the student early in 
his college course and during the regular recitation hours. 
Who will suggest a method? 

III. Some Perception Tests. — 1. Color Perception. — 
How much more valuable our knowledge would be if the 
simple little affairs of every-day experience had been 
learned more definitely and systematically in our child- 
hood. It is said that there is a time for all things. To 
this rule the matter of sense-perception culture is no ex- 
ception, for it is generally conceded that the period of 
childhood and youth is the proper time for such culture. 

We mature people continue day after day to make the 
same old errors in observation and judgment as a result of 
defective sense- training in early years. Moreover, we 
frequently find ourselves without words to express our 
feelings simply because of the fact that we have no definite 
names for our sense impressions. Imagine the difficulty 
of an effort to describe the splendors of the cloud tints and 
shades frequently seen at sunset, or the variegated colors 
of the autumn leaves, if one's color perception is as defective 
as that of many of the persons considered in this test. 
And 3^et I believe that this table fairly represents the young 
people who have been educated in the rural schools of the 
country. Is it any wonder that there is not more music 
and poetry in our souls? 

During the last year I have selected at random and 
called into my office fifty each of the young men and young 



90 



PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



women of this college and asked them to try to name the 
colors listed below. In the case of the mixed colors the 
students were given the benefit of any doubt, but they were 
given no credit for any variation from the correct naming 
of the primary colors. The third column represents the 
per cent, of correct answers as well as the total, as there 
were exactly one hundred tests. Very few of these fail- 
ures were a result of so-called "color-blindness." The 
usual case was simply one of color ignorance. The sum-- 
mary follows : 



Colors. 



Violet 

Blue 

Green 

Yellow .... 
Orange .... 

Red 

Black 

Pink 

Scarlet .... 
Navy Blue . 
Crimson . . . 
Brown . . . . 

Slate 

Magenta . . . 
Purple . . . . 

Drab 

Garnet . . . . 
Terra Gotta 



NUMBER 


CORRECT. 


50 Male. 


50 Female. 


13 


15 


42 


44 


20 


29 


30 


46 


41 


48 


19 


25 


49 


50 


30 


46 


15 


19 


16 


24 


4 


14 


41 


43 


19 


28 


10 


22 


26 


34 


22 


23 


14 


24 


8 


15 



Total 
and 
per 

cent. 



28 
86 
49 
82 
89 
44 
99 
86 
34 
40 
18 
84 
47 
32 
60 
45 
38. 
23 



2. Odor Perception. — The results of this test are not 
wholly satisfactory, but they will be given for what they 
are worth. The odors were placed each in a closely corked 
vial and passed to the observer one at a time. Notwith- 
standing the precautions taken, there was doubtless some 
mixing of the odors, but not enough in most cases to in- 
terfere seriously with the introspection. 

The experiment brought out two minor results of some 
interest : (1) During the average test, which required about 



SOME SIMPLE INVESTIGATIONS. 



91 



a half-hour, the olfactory nerves became considerably 
prostrated after a 4apse of some fifteen or twenty minutes, 
but a decided reaction was noticeable before the close of 
the experiment. (2) It was indicated that the nose is a 
very dependent organ. It is better at verifying judgments 
than at making original ones. The part it takes in judg- 
ment would be illustrated about as foUows: Nose, ''I 
smell something pleasant; what is it?" Eyes, "That is a 
rose, for I see it." Nose, "Yes, it's a rose." But when 
thrown upon their own resources, as in this test, the ol- 
factories are very much undecided. Nearly every ob- 
server was heard to make some such remark as this: "I 
know perfectly well what that odor is, but I can't think of 
it now." 

The small number of correct answers given was some- 
what surprising. Twenty-five young men and twenty- 
five young women were called in. The table of results 
f oUows : 



Odors. 



Violet 

Red Clover 

White Rose 

Lilac 

Apple Blossom . . . . 

Geranium 

Oil of Cloves 

Oil of Peppermint . 

Vanilla 

Oil of Pennyroyal . . 

Nutmeg 

Oil of Almond . . . . 

Oil of Catnip 

Alcohol 

Turpentine 

Oil of Sassafras . . . . 

Tar 

Oil of Wintergreen . 
Oil of Cinnamon . . . 
Asafoetida 



NUMBER CORRECT. 



25 Male. 25 Female. 



1 

4 
1 

1 

2 

14 

17 

9 

2 

13 

3 



5 

14 

2 

22 

4 

9 

18 



5 



4 

3 



1 

9 

18 

10 

2 

14 

2 

3 

1 

16 

1 

16 

10 

13 

17 



Total. 



11 
1 

8 

4 

1 

3 

23 

35 

19 

4 

27 

5 

3 

6 

30 

3 

38 

14 

22 

35 



92 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The point to the whole story is this : Children ought to 
be aided and directed in their sense perceptions. For 
them merely to get a general effect is not enough. Spe- 
cific names ought to be learned for colors, tastes and odors 
as they are perceived, so that fine discriminations can be 
made and more valuable observations can become possible. 
It would be almost as easy for the average child to learn to 
distinguish the eighteen colors named in this list as to learn 
the alphabet; and yet, out of the one hundred tested one 
only was able to recognize them all. By the aid of a few 
simple materials, such as color charts and odorous flowers, 
the average primary teacher could easily give this im- 
portant instruction in sense perception and thereby equip 
the mind of the child for richer and fuller sense experience 
in mature life. 



REFERENCES. 



1. Witmer, — Analytic Psychology. This is an excellent work, 
giving many simple experiments requiring very simple apparatus. 

2. Sanford, — Experimental Psychology. 
Scripture, — The New Psychology. 
Titchener, — Experimental Psychology. 

See also Stratton, Experimental Psychology and Culture. 



THINKING. 93 



CHAPTER yill. 
THINKING. 

It would be a serious error to convey the impression 
that the various mental activities — such as perception, 
imagination, memory, and thought — go on independently 
of one another. Such is not the case. They develop to- 
gether. During mental growth, however, it seems that 
there is a period during which each of these is somewhat 
more actively at work than any of the others. This at 
least partially justifies the expressions, "Sense-perception 
stage," and "Imaginative stage," of mental growth. Dur- 
ing early years the child is engaged chiefly in getting the 
simple meaning of things by means of the special senses. 
Hence the sense-perception epoch. A little later his 
imagination ■ seems to predominate for a while — the im- 
aginative epoch. Still later, for a time, he finds especial 
delight in tracing out relations between things. This 
period is called the logical epoch. 

What is Thinking? — Thinking deals with the relations 
of things in a methodical,- purposeful way. Before pro- 
ceeding further we should make a clear distinction between 
real thinking and merely having thoughts. The thing 
that distinguishes thinking from the various other pro- 
cesses of consciousness is its purposive nature. Real think- 
ing is directed at some goal or end of its activity; that is, 
a conclusion is sought. Such, at least, is the definition 
to be had in mind during this discussion. 



94 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Two Views of Purposiveness. — There are really two 
divergent views extant with reference to the possibility 
of purposive thought. There is a school of psychologists 
sometimes called "Associationists," who say that the 
course of one's thoughts, even when he is reasoning, is 
directed by circumstances that are in no wise under his 
control. It is a kind of fatalistic theory. We are accord- 
ingly merely conscious automata. That object which is 
most capable of holding our attention directs our thoughts, 
aiid thus becomes a factor in our destiny. "We think 
as we do, not because we choose to, but because chance 
association of ideas or objects happens so to occasion it." 

The one advocating the opposite view is sometimes 
called an "apperceptionist." He holds that attention is 
the great factor in thinking, and that one is capable, at 
all times, of choosing or selecting the course of his thought 
from a variety of possible courses. Rather than accept 
the theory of fatalism the apperceptionist would incline 
to say that a person is, or may be, the master of his own 
destiny, and that this work is accomplished through pur- 
posive thinking which is often done in spite of the behests 
of chance association. 

A Compromise Preferable. — It is doubtless true of 
children and of adults undeveloped mentally, that their 
mind processes are directed by influences wholly from 
without; but in the case of persons mentally mature it 
seems very different. They seem to manifest mimis- 
takable evidences of being able to change the course and 
nature of their thinking at will, and to accomplish pur- 
poses of their own designing: While a dozen different 
objects of attention may be pressing their claims for re- 
spect, the trained thinker is able to select and entertain 



THINKING. 95 



as the subject of his thought some matter that at first 
seemed to have no phance against the other twelve. This, 
it seems, is the distinguishing feature of the person who is 
able to achieve success in the face of obstacles, while the 
condition described by the associationist would be repre- 
sented by that poor creature of circumstances, the tramp. 
Mind Activities Interrelated. — We should notice here 
how closely all the mental activities thus far described 
are linked together. Perception gives us the first-hand 
meanings of things. Imagination makes copies of the 
perceptions; memory retains and recognizes the images, 
and thinking makes use of all the other three. While, in 
the act of making comparisons in order to discover like- 
nesses and differences, the thinker is very likely to exer- 
cise all these other activities in a rapid, complex mental 
movement. Suppose I want to decide which of two pro- 
posed building sites would be the more desirable : while 
looking at (perceiving) one of them, I image and remember 
the general appearance of the other, and thus by a complex 
mental act, containing many other elements not named, 
I arrive at a conclusion. 

Logical Thinking. — ^The thinker should proceed in a 
logical manner. That is, his thought should have a clear 
and well-defined starting-point, or basis, and the con- 
clusion should be reached by means of a series of logically 
related steps. It was Socrates, the great philosopher of 
ancient Greece, who was the first to secure a solid basis 
for thinking and argument. The opponents of Socrates 
were the Sophists, who based their teachings on a certain 
maxim: "Man is the measure of all things." These 
Sophists were teachers of rhetoric and argumentation, 
and they advocated the use of any kind of trick or device 



96 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

for the sake of winning one's point. ''For/' said, their 
chief exponent, interpreting the foregoing maxim, " What- 
ever seems true to you is true, and whatever seems false 
is false." ''Very well," replied Socrates; "suppose I say 
that what you are just now stating seems false to me. 
What then?" 

The Socratic Method. — Thus the Sophist was caught 
in his own net, and Socrates went on to develop one of his 
pet theories, viz., that there is a universal basis of truth. 
By this he meant, in substance, that if two or more per- 
sons wished to discuss a question, they could by effort 
find a statement upon which all would agree, for the start- 
ing-point of their argument. Plato, in his dialogues, has 
given us a full and exceedingly interesting account of the 
manner in which Socrates always aided his opponent in 
arriving at this fundamental statement. Anyone of fairly 
mature mind will find both profit and entertainment in 
reading these dialogues. 

Briefly speaking, the method of Socrates' argument 
was two-fold: he either kept going back with his op- 
ponent till they found a statement upon which both could 
agree as a starting-point, or he took the opponent's boast- 
ful statement and by assuming it true slowly wound the 
latter up in his own argument. 

Historical Statement. — Historically, logical argument, 
or inquiry, has taken two very pronounced forms. 

(1) Aristotle (384-322 B. C.) developed and perfected 
what is known as deductive or formal logic. He is the 
author of the so-called syllogism, the " dictum of Aristotle," 
which proceeds as follows: 

All men are mortal, (major premise.) 

Socrates is a man, (minor premise;) therefore, 



THINKING. 07 



Socrates is mortal, (conclusion.) It will be noticed the 
syllogism begins wi|h a general or universal statement, and 
concludes with a particular one. 

(2) Lord Bacon (1561-1626) is usually given chief credit 
for origmating the so-called inductive method of reason- 
ing. This method is the converse of the deductive, be- 
gimiing with a particular and concluding with a universal 
statement. The inductive method is characteristic of the 
modern scientist, who takes particular, apparent facts as 
he finds them and traces out their relations until he reaches 
a larger, more general truth, of which they are a part. 

Thinking Develops Knowledge. — Thinking is the 
mental activity by means of which one builds up his sys- 
tem of knowledge. The simplest act of thought whereby 
this knowledge is obtained is called a judgment. The 
judgment imites, or if negative, separates two ideas or 
concepts. For example, we have the judgment, "Ice is 
frozen water," which consists of three elements: ''Ice," 
the subject; "frozen water," the predicate; and "is," 
the copula. In the judgment, "Iron is not combustible," 
we have an example of the negative form in which the 
non-agreement or separation of subject and predicate is 
asserted. 

An act of judgment, if complex, often implies analysis 
(a separation into parts) and S3^nthesis (putting together 
the parts) of objects. These acts of analysis and synthe- 
sis, in the case of material things, must go on separately; 
but in the case of mental acts, thej^ are combined in one. 
That is, one can't perceive how a complex object is taken 
apart without at the same time perceiving how it is put 
together. 



98 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

What does the world mean to you? It means just what 
you have made it by your own thmking; and if your 
judgments have on certain occasions been erroneous or 
wholly wanting, just to that extent has the world failed 
to come into the grasp of your knowledge. Now, let us 
inquire into the question of forming judgments and see 
what can be done by way of aiding the process. 

Aids to Thinking. — (1) One ought to acquire the. 
habit of forming clear, logical judgments, such as are war- 
ranted by the facts already at hand. This would mean 
a careful examination of the evidence and a resulting 
conclusion in which one could have a high degree of con- 
fidence. Now this very confidence encourages a person 
to put more force and energy into his statements, and 
develops him into what is called a positive character. 
The negative, unassertive character, who is always un- 
certain and thinks ''it may be so," is likely to be left far 
in the rear in the race for the best things of life. Be posi- 
tive, then. 

(2) Hasty judgments are the bane of many a one's ex- 
isence. The person who jumps at conclusions before suf- 
ficient evidence is in, is constantly undergoing the embar- 
rassing necessity of changing his mind or reversing himself. 
Such a one is likely ''unstable in all his ways," and his 
fellow-beings soon learn to regard him as visionary or super- 
ficial, and consequently they lose confidence in him. Of 
course every thinking person will frequently change his 
mind with reference to some matter, but this ought to be 
necessary only in the event of neio evidence. 

(3) One of the worst enemies of clear, sober judgment 
is the habit of gossip. The gossip soon acquires a morbid 
appetite for the cheap stuff upon which his mind feeds, and 



THINKING. 99 



because of his (or her) practice of forming trifling, distorted 
judgments of people, his mind is rendered unfit for any con- 
siderable amount of solid thinking. Gossiping is a bad 
habit into which a good many respectable people fall, and 
it soon makes the life of the gossiper mean and sordid. 
This habit, if eradicated, has to be fought on the same 
principles as other evil practices, such as drinking or swear- 
ing. 

(4) No mental asset is of more worth to a man in mature 
life than the habit, early formed, of judging carefully and 
reasoning deliberately. This, of course, might be traced 
back to those early years when the original brain connec- 
tions were being made, — perhaps at a time when the child 
made an extravagant statement and had the bare reality 
pointed out to him by parent or teacher; or when he 
reached a hasty or unwarranted inference by means of the 
imagination and was taken over the ground of the argu- 
ment by careful steps in order that he might discover the 
true conclusion. 

(5) Clear thinking and systematic work are twin broth- 
ers in the family of good habits. Let one but look care- 
fully about him in all that he 'undertakes, and devise a 
method of procedure that will involve the least possible 
waste of time and energy and yet prove effective. In 
short, let him have a well-devised plan for the performance 
of every task that is before him, and his subsequent de- 
velopment into a logical, systematic thinker is practically 
assured. 

The Study of Logic. — If the student can, at some time 
in the course, take up the formal study of logic, he will be 
enabled to accomplish much toward systematizing his 
thinking. It also gives a more wholesome regard for log- 



100 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ical sequence in any oral or written discussion. The con- 
nected expressions of the average person are, at best, full 
of irrelevancies. The illogical mind is also prone to attach 
undue importance to the superficialities of popular opinion. 
Wherefore, the greater is the necessity of acquiring logical 
habits of thinking. 

Logic Historically. — The Greeks were the first great 
thinkers among Europeans. Shut up in their narrow do- 
main, with considerable leisure and a disposition toward 
mental gymnastics, they naturally developed remarkable 
brain power. Their love of cUsputation, and the necessity 
for it, too, — for every freeman was likely to be called upon 
to defend his property by means of his own skill in debate, 
— easily gave this development a decidedly logical trend. 
It is not at all strange, then, that these conditions pro- 
duced the great and profound logician, Aristotle, who was 
the founder of deductive logic and the author of the syl- 
logism as it is used to-day. In this work, and his writings 
setting forth the laws to which all valid reasoning must 
conform, he set a pattern for the thinking ages. 

Although they seem to have wasted the greater portion 
of their time, the schoolmen, during the Middle Ages, un- 
doubtedly contributed much to the world's progress by 
reason of their efforts to secure clear and exact definitions 
and in their analysis of all possible kinds of argument. 
Scholasticism also taught the world much indirectly by the 
failure of its claim that logic could furnish a complete in- 
strument of knowledge as well as an infallible standard for 
distinguishing error from truth. 

Scholasticism and its various offspring, all teaching by 
authority and promulgating a multitude of forms of doc- 
trinal dogma, prepared the way for Bacon and his inductive 



THINKING. rjfl^B 101 



method of reasoning. Although his great work was ac- 
complished at about* the close of the sixteenth century, 
thinking men were slow to get his point of view. Locke, 
Newton and Herschel caught his idea and developed it 
further. Finally, John Stuart Mill came forward with the 
first text-book on logic (1843), which is a pretty good au- 
thority on induction to-day. These formulated methods 
as given by Bacon and Mill have become substantially the 
methods of modern research; and as a result, we are now 
Uving in a remarkable scientific age. 

Viewed Practically. — But what claims can reasonably 
be made as to the benefits to be derived from the study of 
logic in the collegiate course? It seems to me that those 
given below are not extravagant. 

1. The study of logic should enable the student to think 
more clearly and to express his thought, whether oral or 
written, in a more lucid manner. 

. 2. It should enable him more readily to detect the er- 
roneous statements of others, whether made by design or 
through ignorance. 

3. It should imbue him more fully with the scientific 
spirit, which is the guiding principle of human progress 
to-day. 

4. It should, above all, lead him into habits of systematic, 
scientific method of work of whatever character he may un- 
dertake, and thereby aid his success and further his material 
interests generally. 



REFERENCES. 

1. Hyslop,— Logic, Ch. XXI, "The Laws of Thought." 
Jevons, — ^The Principles of Science, Ch. I, Introduction. 



102 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Cramer, — ^The Method of Darwin, Ch. I, " Education and Reason- 
ing." 

Hibben,— The Problems of Philosophy, Ch. VII, "The Problem 
of Reason." 

Calkins, — Introduction of Psychology, "Thought," pp. 367 ff. 

2. Muirhead, — Philosophy and Life, "The Goal of Knowledge," 
pp. 205-230. 

Harris, — Psychologic Foundations of Education, Ch. IV, "The 
Three Stages of Thought." 

Baldwin, — Development and Evolution, Ch. XVII, "Selective 
Thinking." 

Stratton, — Experimental Psychology and Culture, Ch. IV, "The 
Evidence for Unconscious Ideas." 

Fiske,— Through Nature to God, Ch. VIII, "The Fundamental 
Aspect of Life." 



EMOTION. 103 



CHAPTER IX. 
EMOTION. 

Notice the flushed cheeks of the bashful high-school 
girl when she hears remarks about her personal appear- 
ance, or the pallor on the face of a timid person during a 
thunder-storm, or the clenched fists and firmly set jaws 
of a man 'Svhite with rage," or the loud ha-ha's and bodily 
convulsions of one who is highly amused. In all such 
cases we have instances of the expression of what is called 
emotion. These expressions are not confined to man alone. 
Take the emotion of anger, for example, and observe the 
snarling, defiant attitude of the savage dog, the receding 
ears of the vicious horse, the arched neck of the raging 
bull, and the frothing mouth of the fighting boar. In 
all these instances of men and animals, there seems to be 
an outer manifestation of an inner nervous or mental con- 
dition. 

What is Emotion? — James defines emotion as ''a 
tendency to feel characteristically when in the presence 
of a certain object in the environment." Angell speaks 
of it as ''a phenomenon of interrupted conscious action." 
To understand emotion rightly, one needs to assume suc- 
cessively about three different points of view; i. e., (1) 
experience emotion in himself and get the feeling; (2) 
observe it in others and note the expression that goes 
with it; (3) observe, if possible in either case, what may 
have caused the emotion. 



104 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

When one is undergoing deep emotion, he doubtless 
experiences feelings of a pronounced character. In fear, 
he has that chill}'', drawn-up feeling in the stomach: in 
anger, a warm feeling of physical comfort about the bowels 
and chest; in embarrassment, a dry, uncomfortable feel- 
ing about the mouth and throat. Other emotions have 
their peculiar kind of feeling. The one who is experienc- 
ing the emotion is not likely to take very close account of 
the physical expressions accompanying. An outside ob- 
server can do this to better advantage, as has been im- 
plied in the first paragraph of this chapter. 

An Explosive Effect. — In the case of emotion there 
is something that reminds one of the explosion of a gun. 
Take, for illustration, laughter, and note what occurs. 
The mind is usually following a tolerably even course of 
thought until the ^' funny place" in the story is reached. 
At this point there is a break in the continuity of thought, 
and for an instant a pent-up condition is present. Then 
comes the explosion of laughter and the tension is re- 
lieved. It is the sudden, unexpected turn in the course 
of the story that brings about the emotion. Witness 
the fact that a joke is scarcely ever laughed at heartily a 
second time. To one who knows the drift of the story, 
the course of his thought no longer experiences ihe break 
or interruption. Hence, there is no '' pent-up" feeling to 
explode in form of laughter. 

Emotion and Health. — Much of the satisfaction of the 
pleasurable emotion must certainly come through the 
relief brought about by this explosion. And then the 
pleasurable emotion, no doubt, increases the tonicity of 
the whole organism. The general well-being is enhanced. 
''Laughter is a good sauce," says the proverb. It is quite 



EMOTION. 105 



probable that the physical agitation during laughter 
serves to heightei\ those vital processes which are most 
closely related to digestion and assimilation. Painful 
emotions seem to have an effect of a directly contrary 
nature. It is a well-known fact that sudden grief will 
effectually stop the process of digestion for hours. 

"Laugh and grow fat" is a pretty sound psychologic 
maxim. Good health and happiness are twin sisters. So 
are ill-health and melancholy. Long-continued grief de- 
presses the vital organs and takes away the relish for food. 
The person who grieves long becomes pale and emaciated, 
and renders his body more susceptible to pain and disease. 

May be Overdone. — The person who understands 
best the source and keeping of good health will try to 
govern his emotions as well as his appetite. Anger is 
said to have a sort of poisoning effect on the system. 
Physicians say that anger on the part of a mother who is 
nursing is likely to render her milk unfit for the child. 
Dairymen declare that a cow that is subjected to nervous 
fright during the milking will thereby suffer a reduction 
both in quantity and quality of milk. Even a good emo- 
tion may be overdone. One may "laugh till his sides 
ache/' or until he becomes hysterical; or sympathize 
until his own heart action is weakened. Excessive emo- 
tion also debilitates the nervous system. The writer of 
these lines knows a number of persons who are frequently 
on the verge of nervous prostration as a result of too much 
emotion. 

Emotionalism Attractive. — Emotional people are 
nearly always attractive and interesting. We like to be 
in their company, if not too long at a time. They "laugh 
with those who laugh and weep with those who weep/' 



106 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

and are caught up and carried away with every wave of 
enthusiasm. Heaven bless the emotional ones, even if 
they are likely to run into excesses of conduct, for they 
stir up our dull wits and reawaken our slumbering emo- 
tions. Such persons are also doubtless the producers of 
much of the best that is in art and literature. Many a 
masterpiece is the result of the outflaming of a burning 
emotion. Statistics show that many of our best writers 
work best under high pressure of emotion. 

Inspiration in Literature. — Inquire of the brilliant 
writer and he will likely tell you that emotionalism is a 
great factor in the production of certain kinds of literature. 
"Inspiration" he will call it. An analysis of' inspiration 
shows that it is attended by an unusual flow of blood to 
the brain, and that as a result the thought processes occur 
with great vividness and rapidity. The ideas fairly flash 
into the writer's mind, while with rapidly moving pen he 
tries to write them down before they escape. 

There is a peculiar thing about these so-called inspired 
writings, and that is that one needs to be somewhat in- 
spired in order to appreciate them. It is necessary to 
enter into the author's feeling if one would fully compre- 
hend the meaning of the production. This reminds us 
again of the fact that the greatest phase of art is the sub- 
jective one. While you are admiring a beautiful, classic 
poem, a warm wave of pleasurable appreciation surges 
through your whole frame. As a matter of fact, the real 
poem is in you, and the mechanical features of the pro- 
duction are merely the occasion of it. 

.Esthetic Appreciation. — It is a lamentable fact that 
not a few persons fail- to find the really aesthetic element 
of poetry as well as of other forms of art. If I enter into 



EMOTION. 107 



the true spirit of a poem it will touch me vitally and stir 
up my feelings ajnd emotions. It ought to ''put a new 
song into my mouth" and an exuberance of joy into my 
soul. The true poem ought to make me feel, at least 
temporarily, that any adverse conditions that may be 
pressing in upon me are really contributive to my highest 
spiritual well-being. It ought also to move me to the 
performance of the deed most appropriate to its senti- 
ment. Then I shall be satisfied. 

A mechanical aid to the fuller appreciation of good 
literature is found by some people to consist in reading 
aloud with the tone and inflections of voice best adapted 
to the nature of the selection. 

Emotion and Music. — Music is a fine art, and like all 
others of its class it requires emotionalism for both its 
production and interpretation. It is a mighty factor in 
civilization by virtue of the fact that, swayed by its magic 
spell, the appreciative mind tempororily transcends every 
troublesome and perplexing condition, and finds easy 
access to the domain of ideas that are most inspiring and 
satisfying. Music is pre-eminently the fine art that sepa- 
rates the people into two classes of the emotional and non- 
emotional, claiming as it does only the former as its vota- 
ries. To the latter, there is no music in the true sense of 
the word. 

A list of the great masters in musical composition will 
show, in all cases, men who were capable of unusual depth 
of emotional experience; and, in not a few cases, abnor- 
malities in this respect. 

Great Musical Composers. — Stirred by an insuppres- 
sible passion for music in fancy, Handel, the master 
organist, soon ripened into a prodigy, turning out half a 



108 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

hundred operas, a score of oratorios and many cantatas. 
His oratorio, ''The Messiah," unsurpassed in grandeur and 
subhmity, has reigned triumphantly in the hearts of music- 
lovers ever since its first presentation in 1741. By this 
composition the whole life-story of the ''Prince of Peace" 
has been given a new touch of sacredness and beauty. 

"The Creation" was perhaps the greatest musical com- 
position of Haydn. This beautiful production came as 
the ripe fruitage of sixty-five years of passionate soul- 
growth, and its harmonies are pervaded with aU the fire 
of buoyant youth. When this brilliant author brought 
out his twelve great symphonies on the English stage the 
large audiences were moved to the extreme of enthusiasm. 

Mozart, the prodigy so emotional that his soul literally 
burned out at thirty-five, was playing the piano at three 
and rendering programs of his own music at six years of 
age. He never had to learn music, but seemed to find it 
necessary only to give out of an infinite store of musical 
genius. For finish and perfection of style his operas 
have, as many critics believe, never been surpassed. 

Deaf at the age of thirty-one, Beethoven retired the 
more devotedly to the inner recesses of his OAvn emotional 
nature, and there discovered those profound musical con- 
ceptions and mysterious harmonies which his compositions 
reveal. His magnificent and powerful orchestral works 
— symphonies, overtures, etc. — are fully accessible only 
to those of finished technique and deepest emotional expe- 
rience. 

The romantic imagination, graceful sentiment and in- 
tense poetic feeling so apparent in the splendid musical 
compositions of Mendelssohn could have emanated only 
from a soul made beautiful by a rich experience of emo- 



EMOTION. 109 



tionalism. Recall, for instance, how the ideal, poetic over- 
ture to ''The Midsummer Night's Dream," though one of 
the author's youthful productions, appeals to one's sense 
of the sublime. It is little wonder that he was idolized in 
a foreign land. 

Such, too, is the testimony concerning Chopin, the Pole, 
a master musician at nineteen and ''the boldest, proudest 
' spirit of his times," whose compositions are so strong and 
exquisite, so original in rhythm, and so rich in tone color. 
His fits of impulsiveness and furious anger, intensified, no 
doubt, by what his beloved country was suffering, seemed 
to invest his music with a melancholy undertone. 

Our own Richard ' Wagner, that modern master of in- 
strumentation, was sensitive in the extreme, and often 
fairly glowed with emotionalism. His forceful, dramatic 
style of musical art is at all times suggestive of these soul- 
stirring experiences. 

Evolution and Emotion. — The thoroughgoing evolu- 
tionist argues pretty convincingly that at some time every 
emotion has had its specific use in the life-and-death strug- 
gle that the race has been undergoing. For instance, the 
dog in expressing anger, bristles up his hair and tail and 
shows his teeth, at the same time barking and growling. 
All these make him look larger and fiercer and tend to in- 
timidate an enemy. So with an angry man. During the 
exercise of this emotion he braces his body, clenches his 
fists, sets his jaws firm, and makes extravagant claims as 
to his prowess. All this seems to send the blood tingling 
through his arteries and to give him a feeling that he pos- 
sesses unusual size and strength. 

The dog such as described above possessed an advantage 
over his enemy of less expressive ability ; and, in the days 



110 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

when might made right, the man who could display all 
those signs of the emotion of anger likely bluffed his less 
apt brother into submission without a fight and carried 
away captive some important prize, probably a wife. Fear, 
too, the evolutionist would say, has operated in a similar 
way, causing the victim to flee from real danger at the 
right moment and thus to save his life. For a full discus- 
sion of this matter, see Darwin's Expression of Emotion in 
Men and Animals. 

The Individual. — During the lifetime of the average 
person his emotions gradually undergo processes of evolu- 
tion or modification. As is said to have been the case with 
the primitive race, the individual while young manifests 
only selfish or egoistic emotions. The unselfish or altruistic 
ones develop after a long period of schooling. Many of 
the coarse emotions of childhood and youth finally become 
transformed into various expressions which we call "good 
breeding." Thus the fear of people in the child may in time 
develop into the well-known reserved manner of the adult. 
His childish outburst of anger at others may at last become 
transformed into a sharp witticism directed at one whose 
remarks are somewhat stirring. In every instance of de- 
velopment of race or individual, the tendency is always from 
the coarser toward the more refined forms of emotion. 
The wrath and the curses of such frequent mention in the 
Old Testament are fully displaced by the expressions of 
forgiveness and the benedictions of the New. 

Emotional Habits. — Take a rattle away from a little 
child and he will be very likel}^ to cry. You have broken 
up his free, easy-going mode of getting experience. He 
swells up, so to speak, with emotion, which finally breaks 
out at the weakest point, in form of crying. Somewhat 



EMOTION. Ill 



later, circumstances develop more fuUy his ability to laugh, 
and this becomes another possible point of outbreak of 
emotional energy. For a period during his little life you 
scarcely know whether to expect a laugh or a cry when you 
''break into his game," for these two forms of expression 
are pretty well balanced. 

It is interesting to notice that these modes of expressing 
emotion soon become habits, which are broken up or trans- 
formed as the child gradually secures more complex mean- 
ings through experience. That tense, pent-up feeling 
which broke out into a cry in the child, finds expression in 
the clenched fists, the set jaws, the defiant look, and the an- 
gry exclamations of the enraged man. And that other 
form of expression of exuberant joy, i. e., laughter, devel- 
ops into the beneficent smile, the kindly exclamation, and 
the many other expressions of approval or good feeling in 
the mature person. 

An Illustration. — The person who has a good set of 
emotional habits is to be envied, yet such a thing is alto- 
gether possible for the one who persists in the practice of 
self-culture. It is believed by many that it is often pos- 
sible to turn the undesirable expression of emotion into a 
better channel of escape. To illustrate : Many a man who 
mashes his thumb utters an exclamation that looks better 

in print if written thus: '' !" But the author knows 

personally at least one profane man who decided to reform. 
So, on such occasions as that of a mashed thumb, he would 
say "Praise the Lord!" instead of "blankety-blank." He 
said that the new mode of expression was a little awkward 
at first, but that in time it became as satisfying as the old. 

As a matter of fact, the one who would refine his character 
must do some such thing as the man referred to above. 



112 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The primitive form of response must be, by effort, trans- 
formed into that which is more pleasing to others and which 
more nearly satisfies the demands of his own ideal of char- 
acter. 

Mechanical Emotional Training. — But suppose one 
very much desires to be able to experience every form of 
emotional feeling as the occasion demands : simply wishing 
it were so will not make it so. Can this thing be acquired? 
To this question the theatrical performer always answers 
affirmatively, saying in substance: Simply acquire and 
hold persistently the attitudes of body and mind best suited 
to the emotion you wish to experience, and the appropriate 
feeling ivill in time become full and natural. 

Practice a while the following: Imagine some one a 
mortal enemy. Grate your teeth, clench and shake your 
fists at him, and in a gruff, defiant tone, denounce him in 
the severest terms. Determine for yourself whether or 
not the emotion of anger or rage results. The writer can- 
not answer this from personal experience, but he can so 
testify as regards a better form of emotion. While en- 
gaged in giving a public address, he has often found it 
possible to engender in himself a pronounced emotion of 
sympathy by means of lowering and softening his tone of 
voice, and by entertaining in quick, secret thought the most 
compassionate sentiment of which he is capable. 

Go to the one for whom you do not have sufficient affec- 
tion, when he is ailing somewhat, show by every little act 
and expression possible the kindliest sympathy, and then 
notice as a result how your heart is softened and your love 
rekindled. It seems to be an unfailing law that one in 
time takes on the precise nature of that character which 
he persistently represents. It is reported on highest au- 



EMOTION. 113 



thority that those who take part in the Passion play at 
Oberammergau become more and more Hke the characters 
they represent. The man acting the part of Judas Iscariot 
in time becomes a traitorous villain, and the one who im- 
personates Jesus Christ grows constantly more like that 
perfect character. But in ordinary life, off the stage, it is 
often the greatest difficulty to persist in acting the character 
that one might hope to realize. 

Early Emotional Training.— Thus much, at least, ought 
to be said with reference to early emotional culture : The 
child ought always to have an opportunity to express the 
better emotion as soon as it comes to him, in form of 
some kind of appropriate act. If he is just now filled with 
an emotion that suggests manly courage, guide him at 
once, if possible, into the performance of an act that is ap- 
propriate. ' If he is all aglow with the emotion of sympa- 
thy for some needy or suffering one, by all means direct the 
child in the performance of some little act that will tend to 
relieve the distress. This important matter is too often 
overlooked by those who have the care of children. The 
rule is, in every case possible see that the child performs 
the act prompted by the good emotion, otherwise he may 
become a mere dreamer about the good when he might be 
made a doer of the good. 

Emotion an Art. — So it would seem that the one who 
learns to order his life according to an ideal pattern will, 
in time, acquire emotional experience and its appropriate 
expression as he would acquire the mastery of a fine art. 
On proper occasion, he will be capable of experiencing just 
enough anger (''righteous indignation") to give him energy 
for the performance of an unpleasant duty. He can stir up 

—8 



114 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

in his own breast sufficient sympathy to spur him on to a 
deed of mercy or compassion. He will be able to express 
a passionate fondness for Beauty as she is presented to him 
in her various forms. In short, such a person will find it 
possible on all fitting occasions to bring himself up to that 
warm glow of emotionalism which is most satisfying to 
those who are in his company, and which supplies him with" 
an unfailing source of enjoyment. 



REFERENCES. 

1. James, — Briefer Course, Ch. XXIV, "Emotion." 

Angell,— Psychology, Ch. XVIII, "The Nature of Emotion"; 
Ch. XIX, " General Theory of Emotion." 

Titchener, — Outline of Psychology, Ch. IX, "Feeling and Emo- 
tion." 

Halleck, — "Education of the Central Nervous System and En- 
joyment." 

2. Kulpe,— Outlines of Psychology, Prt. II, Ch. Ill, "The Emo- 
tions and Impulses." 

Mantegazza, — Physiognomy and Expression, Prt. II, "The Ex- 
pression of the Emotions." 

Ribat, — "The Psychology of the Emotions." 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 115 



CHAPTER X. 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

About the most helpless thing in the whole animal 
kingdom is the human infant, while the creature which 
possesses above all others the greatest self-control and 
the greatest mastery over his environment is the fully 
matured man. What a- miracle that one of these should 
finally develop into the other! And yet, strange to say, 
there are in the world many who keep calling loudly for 
an outward ''sign" of man's divine nature. 

There is every reason to believe that every human being 
begins his earthly career absolutely without knowledge. 
Innate ideas are now considered out of the question. The 
child at birth seems merely to have a nervous mechanism 
already primed and strung up for use. Upon this the en- 
vironment begins at once to act, while the reactions from 
within are immediately forthcoming; and thus the little 
being is fairly launched upon his voyage of discovery of 
the world. 

Forms of Infant Activity. — There are three modes of 
activity, or reaction, possible to the new-born infant, 
viz.: reflex, instinctive, and impulsive; and in the last 
named lies his promise of intellectual reward. The re- 
flex acts are such as afford immediate protection to some 
part of the body that is threaterued with injury. With- 
drawing the hand or foot when it is touched or pricked, 
and winking the eyes to avoid outside contact with the 
sensitive parts, are examples. These acts go on as well 



116 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

at first as they ever do, and the child seems to learn nothing 
from them, as they are more or less miconscious. Nurs- 
ing is the best example of the child's instinctive activity. 
Again, the instinctive act is so definite in its progress that 
there is necessarily little consciousness attending. 

Impulsive Action Peculiar. — But it is impulsive ac- 
tion, the kind manifested by the child's kicking and strik- 
ing indefinitely into the air, that seems to mean most for 
the growth of consciousness. The impulse is, strictly 
speaking, a sort of reaction. A simple illustration would 
be this: Nature somehow causes the infant's little body 
to fill up with nervous energy, which must have a means 
of escape. The freest channel of overflow for this energy 
is usually in form of kicking and squirming, but in the 
process of these movements there occur all sorts of vari- 
ations, some of which result in contacts and entangle- 
ments with the bed-covers and other objects in the im- 
mediate environment. 

Now, every one of these contacts and interferences 
with the impulsive activities has its peculiar quality of 
feeling and adds its mite to th.e growing complexity of 
consciousness. While these acts are going on in process 
of training his sense of touch, the other senses are being 
played upon in various manners. Images of moving ob- 
jects are crossing his retinas and sound vibrations are 
coming in over the . auditory tracts. A flash of bright 
light or an unusually loud sound will likely give his nerves 
such a shock as to cause the child to break into a cry. This 
crying itself involves a large complex of impulsive activi- 
ties both within and without. Consequently, the blood 
goes to certain parts of the body in fuller supply while 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIO USNESS. 117 

the accompanying contortions and writhings set up a 
whole set of new feelings. 

Alternating Quiet and Unrest. — Thus consciousness 
becomes enriched, and, the nervous equilibriimi having 
been restored, there foUows a refreshing sleep during which 
more nervous energy accimiulates in preparation for the 
next period of activity. This alternating principle of un- 
rest and quiet seems to be a rhythmic law of nature. Hun- 
ger and satiety, work and rest, mind activity and repose, 
are familiar Illustrations of this law. But the signifi- 
cant thing for us to note here is the fact that each recurring 
period of acti^dty, in the case of the infant, means another 
set of impulsive movements and further additions to con- 
scious experience. 

The Simplest Law. — I believe that the primary law 
of earliest development of consciousness in the child is 
that of change, or variation. His first awareness of things 
present to sight is of objects moving, and thus causing a 
change of position of the retinal image. He becomes 
aware of stationary objects only after he is able to move 
his head, and thus cause a moving retinal image. His 
first consciousness of things heard is of somids that, come 
intermittently, as in the case of the human voice, or any 
sound of uneven vibrations. Even a mature person soon 
ceases to hear a noise that is continued with unbroken 
monotony. These changes in the amount and character 
of the nervous stimuli impart to the brain cortex the 
many nervous shocks, each with its peculiar quality of 
feeling. In some such way as this, I believe, the child 
gets his first idea of a "this and that" and of "this 
different from that." 

Further Advancement. — Granting this beginning of 



118 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

consciousness, the further differentiation of it is more 
easily explained. During his impulsive arm-swinging, 
the little thumb accidentally slips into the mouth; re- 
sult, a new, rich morsel of consciousness, one for which 
he will likely strive indefinitely after this. Volition is 
budding. As the child grows in physical strength the 
number and variety of physical acts become greater and 
more complex. He can now grasp things in the hand, 
turn over in bed, sit up, roll over on the floor, and bimip 
and punish himself in a variety of new ways. 

The youngster is now a regular attendant at the school 
of experience, and he is learning rapidly. Let him wallow 
in the coal-box, burn his fingers, fall and bump his nose, 
tumble down cellar, and do every other conceivable thing; 
provided only, that he can come out of the experience 
with his skin fairly intact. In all this he is getting, first- 
hand, information that is essential to his later conduct. 
He is ten times better off than the child which is tied in 
his crib long after he ought to be in rapid action, " for fear 
he might get hurt." 

Meaning of Self -Activity. — Ideal conditions of soil, 
moisture, atmosphere, etc., would not suffice to make an 
artificial plant grow. The life-germ must be present, and 
then these conditions will bring about development. This 
growth is the inner nature of the plant in process of as- 
serting itself. It is the self-activity of the plant. So with 
animal beings. Given the life principle and the conditions 
of growth and development, and these life processes go on 
in a manner determined by the inner nature of the creature. 
The tree has simple digestive and assimilative processes. 
The higher animal forms have more complex ones, with 
the additional power of locomotion, 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 119 

The tree, for instance, shows some pronounced reactions. 
It reaches out with branch and leaf for the sunlight and 
the rain, and downward with root and fiber for the moisture 
and the other nutriments in the soU. The horse is capable 
of obtaining all his necessary nourishment with more 
highly specialized forms of activity, and of appropri- 
ating them to the uses of a much more complex organism. 
He has two marked advantages over the tree, viz., that 
of a nervous mechanism, and that of the power of loco- 
motion. So his self-activity manifests itself in a complex 
way, but strictly in accordance with his horse nature. 

Man's Peculiarity. — -The hmnah being possesses all 
the powers and advantages belonging to the tree and the 
horse, together with a thousand others. He can reason, 
choose among alternatives, plan for the future, have ideals, 
can love, hate, sympathize, and the like, in a manner 
peculiarly and well-nigh exclusively his own. And yet 
all these acts are but instances of his inner nature forcing 
itself outward to expression. In other words, these are 
manifold manifestations of his self-activity, and they con- 
tinue without his effort; yes, almost in spite of his effort. 

This brief discussion of self-activity is made here with 
a double purpose, namely: (1) To indicate the signifi- 
cance of the fact that consciousness forces itseff upon the 
individual as time passes. He learns, not so much be- 
cause he desires to, but because he must. (2) It is proper 
to show that, while it is not within man's power to pre- 
vent his conscious experiences, it is entirely possible for 
him to modify and direct them, as we shall try to indicate 
in the chapter on volition, to follow. 

Imitation. — From the very beginning there is promi- 
nent a social phase of conscious activity, and we call it 



120. PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

imitation. If the term were not so nearly self-contra- 
dictory we might call it miconscious volition. From the 
child's own standpoint he is not imitating; he is merely 
defining his spontaneous activities in such terms as his en- 
vironment offers, and in all such acts he continues to widen 
the scope of his consciousness. There are two important 
aspects of imitation that might well be noted. The first 
is imitation of others, and the second, that of the self. 
Give a three-year-old lad a small hammer and some nails 
and a piece of soft lumber, and observe his efforts. He 
will wield the hammer in fair imitation of what he has 
seen others do ; but this does not aid him much in striking 
the nail on the head. The latter feat must be accom- 
plished by means of self-imitation. So he begins in earnest 
pounding away, hit or miss (mostly miss), and finally 
accidentally strikes the nail square on the head. This 
last blow gives the boy the thrill that he has been vaguely 
striving for, and it gives him an image (that is, a fresh 
memory-copy of how it feels to strike the nail) by means 
of which he can soon hit it again. This random hammer- 
swinging is kept up imtil accurate aim means simply 
measuring off mentally, beforehand, the amount of mus- 
cular effort necessary for each coming blow. But this 
case, or a similar one, can be discussed to better advan- 
tage in the next chapter. 

Imitation in Language. — But imitation is not to be 
treated as a cUstinct kind of conscious activity, such as 
perception and memory. It is present to some degree 
in practically all of the experiences that develop new types 
of consciousness in the unfolding mind. It is better, 
therefore, to call it an aspect of the growing consciousness. 
If the reader will take the trouble to observe the acts of 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 121 

children and young people of various ages he will dis- 
cover the imitative side of these acts in all cases. That 
language is acquired by means of imitation is indicated 
by the fact that deaf people are dumb simply as a result 
of not being able to hear. Their vocal organs are usually 
normal. Peculiarities of tone, accent, articulation, and 
many other mannerisms of speech, both good and bad, 
are clearly the result of imitation of others modified by 
imitation of the self. 

Imitation in Movements. — As language is the result 
of continued effort to make copies of expressions heard 
with the ear, and feelings experienced in the vocal organs, 
so are bodily postures', attitude, movements and the like, 
given their peculiar form as a result of imitation of these 
same things seen with the eye in others, and of feelings 
experienced in various parts of one's own organism. A 
man who has been blind from birth is never seen making 
gestures, grimaces, becks and nods in any such manner 
as normal persons do. So he is not only lacking in con- 
sciousness of things as seen by the normal eye, but also 
in the special kinds of consciousness that would come to 
him as a result of imitation of the various bodily atti- 
tudes, movements, etc., referred to above. 

We will close the discussion by briefly reminding the 
reader of the fact that we are all imitators. In dress, 
bodily attitudes, modulation of voice, gesture, and a thou- 
sand-and-one other acts of greater or less significance. 
We are prone to copy more or less accurately the conduct 
of our fellow-beings. Those persons of highest reputed 
respectability and those who most nearly exemplify our 
ideals will be our chief exemplars. Again, let it be re- 
membered that in every case of imitation^ whether of self 



122 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

or of others, and whether successful in accomplishing the 
end aimed at or not, there is being brought about that 
same continuous enrichment and specialization of con- 
scious experience which was referred to above a number 
of times. 



REFERENCES. 



1. King, — Psychology of Child Development. (An excellent treat- 
ment of the whole subject.) 

James,— Briefer Course, Ch. XX, "Perception"; Ch. XXI, "The 
Perception of Space." 

Dresser, — Education and the Philosophic Ideal, Ch. IV, "The 
Subconscious Mind." 

Home,— The Philosophy of Education, .Chapters VI, VII, "The 
Psychologic Aspect of Education." 

2. Royce, — Outlines of Psychology, Ch. XIII, "The Conditions 
of Mental Initiative." (This whole work is an instructive discussion 
of Mind Development.) 

Baldwin,— Mental Development, Ch. VII, "The Theory of De- 
velopment"; Chapters IX, X, XI, XII, "Imitation." 



VOLITION. 123 



CHAPTER XI. 
VOLITION. 

Why can't one always do just what his judgment tells 
hmi is best? A student was overheard saying to a friend, 
"1 ought to stay at home and study my lessons to-night, 
but if you are going to the theatre I T\dll go mth you." 
Another person says, " I ought to quit this work and take 
a month's rest and recuperation, but somehow I can't per- 
suade myself to do it."- Still another reasons with himself 
this way, " I ought to go out this evening and call on my sick 
friend A, but the weather is so cold and it is so dark." The 
penitent thief declares, ''I am going to brace up and be a 
man, and have stolen for the last time," but likely he is in 
the toils a month later for the same old crime. 

The voluntary act is purposiAT. It has in view a more 
or less remote end, and usually the means to the attain- 
ment of this end are somewhat clearly in mind. There are, 
roughly speaking, two general classes of voluntary acts: 
those that result from deliberation, and those that require 
none. 

Two Classes of Volitional Acts. — My fountain pen rims 
dr3^ Immediately I seize the ink-bottle and the dropper 
and refill it. At another time the room is discovered 
to be imcomfortably cold. Without any thought of de- 
liberation I go below at once and heave some coal into the 
furnace. While in my office at the college, the bell signals 
the recitation period. Unhesitatingly I put away my 
other work and appear before the class, ready for business, 



124 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

A little reflection reveals the fact that much of my time is 
taken up by just this kind of activity. The act is no sooner 
thought of than its performance begins. The majority 
of such acts, however, are of a routine nature, and they 
have no very apparent alternative, under the given circum- 
stances. 

Further reflection shows me that many of my acts, es- 
pecially those which have more remote and more important 
consequences, are performed only after hesitation and 
deliberation. What kind of coal shall I stow away in my 
furnace-room for the winter's supply? Will it be advisable 
to build an addition to my house in the spring? How shall 
I spend the coming summer — in the mountains, or at the 
seaside, or at home in an eJEfort to save a little money, and 
perhaps to make a little more ''on the side"? These are 
examples of questions that require deliberation as a prep- 
aration for action. 

Past Experience and Volition. — One can't will a new 
act. All the determination I could possibly muster would 
not enable me to play even a simple tune on the violin. I 
have never learned to play that instrument. Select some 
man of mighty courage and wi]l-power and set him astride 
a bicycle for the first time. The probability is that there 
will be a crash before he has ridden ten yards, in spite of 
his strong determination. He lacks one thing — past ex- 
perience. 

Set a little creeping child down in the middle of the room, 
and the chances are that, before you can turn around, he 
will be in the coal-scuttle begriming himself with the coal- 
dust. How did he do it? The simple sight of that coal- 
scuttle brought back memory images of the fun he had 
there on a previous occasion — possibly he stumbled upon 



VOLITION. 125 



the thing by accident, the first time — and now the situation 
looks good to him, so he takes a ''bee line" for the bucket. 
Tell the same child to stand or walk, and, although old and 
strong enough, he dosen't obey, not knowing how. He 
can't form an idea of the sensible effects of walking, of 
how it feels to execute the necessary movements. 

How the Image Aids.— It becomes evident, then, that 
before one performs any act he must first in some way image 
himself in its performance. I decide to go down and throw 
some coal into the furnace. Quick as a flash, I have a vis- 
ual image of the way down, the furnace-doors opening, the 
coal-heap, and muscular and tactual images of myself in 
the act of seizing the shovel, heaving the coal, closing the 
furnace-doors, and the like. There are also possibly audi- 
tory images of the coal rattling under the shovel, the fur- 
nace-door slamming, etc. Now, this rapid imaging to- 
gether with the fact that there are no other images just 
then standing in the way, and possibly the further fact 
that my first thought of the act was that it was necessary, — 
these seem to be the only preconditions of the performance 
of the act. 

Thus one projects himself into the future by means of 
imagination, before he carries out any voluntary act. The 
thing must be done in thought before being done in deed, 
calling upon memory ; the performer then images as nearly 
as possible what is to happen, and rushes forward. The 
performance of the act itself likely brings out many ex- 
periences that were not in the image ; that is, the environ- 
ment may give him many impressions that are actually 
new, but these will become available in imaging other acts 
in the future. Consciousness in form of memory and im- 
agination has been that much enriched. 



126 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Muscular Control. — All ideas are motor in tendency, 
but there are many reasons why a definite movement of the 
body does not always take place after the idea of acting en- 
ters the mind. For instance, there may be in the mind 
during a minute's time a score of ideas presenting many 
conflicts in tendency to act, and then, the question of mus- 
cular control is an important one. This does not prove 
to be so simple a matter as one would at first expect to find 
it ; for it is necessary, while causing certain muscles to act, 
to keep certain others from acting. Let us take an ex- 
ample. 

Observe a little boy in the act of learning to write with 
a pen, and this matter will be illustrated. He grasps the 
penholder too tightly, stiffens his arm, contorts his face, 
and runs his tongue out, — thus bringing into use many 
muscles that ought to be in a state of relaxation. The ac- 
tion of these he must learn to inhibit, that is, prevent. 
Gradually, as. the lessons proceed, the boy's tongue ceases 
to wag, his face to contort, and the other unnecessary mus- 
cles to act. The task of writing is then easier and much less 
fatiguing. The case of an adult learning bicycle-riding is 
another good illustration of education in motor control. 
The learner strains a great many muscles unnecessarily, 
while those that aid him in balancing and guiding the ma- 
chine are perhaps inactive. At the end of a half-hour he 
is quite bruised and worn out — more fatigued than a day's 
riding would make the expert. After every effort, however, 
the weary victim is able to image the adjustments and move- 
ments in a clearer form than ever, until finally he can in- 
itiate action in the muscles actually needed for the work 
and inhibit the action of others that would interfere. 

EfEort Pleasurable. — Fortunately, especially in case 



VOLITION. 127 



of the child, this strugghng over unfamihar ground (for in- 
stance, in learning to walk) is pleasurable. It furnishes 
an outlet for his buoyant nervous energies, and thus gives 
him that perseverance which finally brings success. These 
instances of the child learning to walk, the boy learning to 
write, and the man learning to ride a bicycle, are all alike 
in principle. They represent efforts to define experience 
more accurately by means of selecting out of the mass of 
feeling-images only those that rightfully belong to and 
precede the perfected act. In other words, the special 
task is to secure the necessary inhibitions and to set up the 
proper coordinations of mind-act and body-act ' for any 
given accomplishment.- 

Mental Control. — It has now become apparent that, 
so far as this discussion has gone, motor and mental con- 
trol are the two aspects of the same coordination, for to 
gain control of the muscles necessary for any act is to se- 
cure the images — ^visual, tactual, etc., — that must precede 
that act. But the whole subject of volition becomes more 
complex as we proceed. To act in a simple manner, when 
there is no serious obstacle in the way, is easy and natural. 
What shall we do, however, when two or more modes of 
action are strongly suggested to us at the same time? 

Deliberation. — In such situations as that last stated 
above, deliberation is necessary for wise and prudent con- 
duct. To choose wisely among alternatives is a sort of 
art in itself. To decide too quickly may mean error and 
final dissatisfaction with the choice. To deliberate too 
long may mean loss of ability to act at all. Of the two ex- 
tremes, I consider the former the more desirable, for it 
is more easily corrected, if it becomes habitual. 

Undue haste in decision is usually characteristic of im- 



128 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

mature minds, and sometimes its consequences are very 
serious. Witness, for instance, the number of human 
lives that are wrecked as a result of lack of proper delibera- 
tion in choosing a life vocation, or a life partner. Only- 
yesterday a youth of nineteen years, a freshman student, 
came and revealed to me his plans for the future. This is 
to be his last term in college. He is ''getting too old" to 
stay in school. Has prospect of a position at $40 per 
month, which now looks big to him, as he has never before 
earned such a salary. There is a girl in the case. They 
will marry and settle down, and, let us hope, make a success 
of life. 

Value of Slow Development. — Three and a half years 
hence, this young man's classmate, possessing a better, 
maturer judgment, will go forth with his diploma and a 
character so broadened and rounded out by education and 
experience that he will have a ten-to-one advantage over 
the other in at least two important respects : (1) In op- 
portunities for more lucrative employment, and (2) in 
point of equipment for becoming a more useful citizen in 
any community and for getting out of life those' higher 
values that are likely to be secured only by the educated. 

The full bearing of deliberation upon volition cannot 
be made evident at this time. Its meaning will be brought 
out more clearly further on. 

Organic Obstacles to Volition. — Man is a creature of 
appetites and desires. He is forever craving something 
to satisfy his temporal wants. His natural cravings for 
food and drink are alone strong enough to make him a 
creature of caprice. His moods and sentiments vary in 
proportion as these bodily needs are supplied. Mr. A. hun- 
gry and Mr. A. full-fed may be as divergent in character as 



VOLITION. 129 



the celebrated Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hj^de. A deliberated 
act well-nigh impossible under the first condition may be- 
come easy of performance under the second. The lower 
animal instincts and impulses become dominant in the hun- 
gry man. His higher, more spiritual nature becomes self- 
assertive after he has eaten to the point of moderate sa- 
tiety, 

Fortunate indeed it would be if these natural cravings 
of hunger and thirst were the most serious ones that man 
has to deal with. But they are not. He is capable of ac- 
quiring a whole series of abnormal appetites that are many 
times more acute in their cravings than the natural ones. 
Here is where the human being, above all other living crea- 
tures, gets into trouble with himself when he attempts to 
realize his ideals of conduct. But let one of these abnor- 
mal appetites develop into a thoroughgoing habit and its 
power to preserve and assert itself may be the means of 
breaking the strongest resolution that its victim is capable 
of forming. 

An Example. — As an illustration of this abnormality 
let us consider the use of tobacco, which has the peculiar 
effect of soothing the nerves and inducing sleep. The ha- 
bitual smoker finds it practically impossible to perform his 
ordinary duties satisfactorily if the indulgence is suddenly 
cut off. He is likely to be nervous or flighty, or stupid, 
and, withal, uncertain in his conduct. Through the bodily 
pains and dire distress of mind thus brought on, the habit 
calls vehemently and uninterruptedly for its continuance. 
It forces itself upon the attention of its victim to the ex- 
clusion of his higher interests and thereby secures its own 
reinstatement. 



130 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The example given above is typical of the experience of 
a large class of smokers, if their own testimonies can be ac- 
cepted for anything. Three days ago a young sophomore 
student related to me his own case in almost exactly these 
same terms. He smokes a pipe six or eight times each day, 
and it is telling upon his physical health and mental abil- 
ity. Like many young men of his class, he finds himself 
growing weaker in ability to stick to his purposes, and es- 
pecially to get clear conceptions of his subjects of study, on 
account of despondency and mind-wandering. But a 
week's trial at swearing off "convinced him that such a 
course made matters ten times worse," for he then could 
neither sleep nor study. 

Attention and Volition. — It now becomes evident 
that volition is largely a question of- attention. That 
which can command and hold the attention most persistently 
determines conduct. Now, action is in all cases equal to 
reaction. If a certain monstrous appetite or craving has 
gained exclusive possession of the attention, it can only be 
fought off satisfactorily by turning the attention passion- 
ately to some desirable mode of conduct that will effectually 
inhibit the undesirable act. This effort, if successful, is 
often a most desperate one. 

Interest and Attention.- — It is a mistake to think that 
attention can be given, to any matter or can be developed 
in any subject simply by means of some kind of strain of 
mind or body. It cannot be forced, as some teachers seem 
to believe. I may hold a rod over the head of a school- 
boy and threaten him with severe punishment if he does 
not give attention to the lesson forthwith, and by this 
means cause him to stare vacantly at a printed page. This 
process, however, in no way aids him in giving attention. 



VOLITION. 131 



Attention simply can't be given. It must be drawn out by 
something that is changing. There must be something 
doing. The object* of attention must present some familiar 
and interesting phases before it can possibly be attended to. 

Let one stare for a few moments, fixedly, at a changeless 
object, and he will either go to sleep or become hypnotized. 
Many tests have proven this to be true. It is estimated 
by the best authorities that no one can attend longer than 
a very few seconds at an object that presents absolutely 
no change in aspect. It might be added that unbroken, 
effective attention can be expected only when the observer 
finds something that is interesting to him in the object ob- 
served. In every such case the act of attending is free and 
easy. Now, if we are going to argue that volition is largely 
a question of giving attention (as many writers do), and 
that attention depends upon interest, we had better go 
straight to the root of the matter at once and ask ourselves : 

What is Interest? — AVhat is its essence? How can 
it be induced? Watch a little child playing with a rattle, 
and note that his attention is absorbed in the act. This 
activity appeals to him, because it gives an outlet to his 
buoyant energy, and because it ever gives wider, and more 
definite meaning to his experience. It would be useless to 
try to interest such a child by reading to him from a Latin 
classic, and yet this is only a slight exaggeration of what the 
old-style instructor tried to do. Interest is said to be (1) 
native, that is, the object makes a direct appeal to the ob- 
server in terms of present experience, as in the case of the 
child referred to above; and (2) borrowed, in which case 
the object makes its appeal by reinterpreting past experi- 
ence, or in terms of imagined future experience. 



132 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The inefficiency of the uneducated man in the matter of 
vohtion now becomes explainable. He is short on borrowed 
interest. That is, the objects and conditions in his environ- 
ment do not have enough vital, interrupting relations to 
his past or possible future to interest him deeply and widely. 
He therefore cannot attend closely to them, not having 
learned how, and consequently he cannot embody these 
things in his volitional acts. We call him weak-willed. 

Training and Volition. — It is possible that one's con- 
duct may always be above criticism in a moral sense, and 
yet that he may be weak in volition. Such a person might 
simply have been trained dogmatically to respond in a 
fixed manner in reference to the temptations that came into 
his early life till his character became thoroughly set. It 
is perfectly obvious that such a character might be very 
narrow and practically incapable of responding in new 
ways. Such a man would say : '' My father always taught 
me to keep my mouth shut whenever anyone spoke ill to 
me, and so I do it.'' 

Two Classic Views. — There are two celebrated views 
of volition, which are almost directly opposed to each 
other. Socrates, the Greek philosopher, said, in substance, 
that doing what we ought consisted in insight; i. e., in 
knowing what ought to be done in any given case. Rous- 
seau, the French reformer, on the contrary, said that he 
knew the right but always did the opposite; he was good 
in theory but evil in his practices. The Socratic ''in- 
sight," expanded a little, could be made to conform to the 
theory of volition as a result of attention which has been 
made possible through interest borrowed from personal 
experience, as we suggested above. The only way to ac- 
count for the character of Rousseau is to say that during 



VOLITION. 133 



the early years of his Hfe he became thoroughly habituated 
in not responding to the suggestion of a moral act. 

Volition and Reform. — We now see the situation in 
which this discussion places the self-reformer. He is ha- 
bituated to certain objectionable forms of conduct, and 
his problem is solely that of directing his attention into new 
and better channels so that the old type of thought will 
be counteracted by the new. Some opposing thought that 
appeals to him through emotional interest is the only thing 
that will do the work. One great trouble with the weak- 
willed man is, that he cannot image himself persistently 
in enough new and interesting situations. He is practi- 
cally incapable of getting a new view of himself unless some 
outside assistance is offered. 

Jean Valjean, the criminal, had been imaging himself 
in criminal attitudes and acts so long that any such thing 
as a wholesome, uplifting thought was, to him, out of the 
question. So it came as a nervous shock and as a unique 
self-revelation to him when the good Bishop said, ''Jean 
Valjean, you belong no longer unto evil but unto good! 
I have bought your soul to-day and given it unto the good! " 
This is the only true principle of reform. The reformer's 
attention must be called out habitually to a better and more 
inspiring image of himself. 

Will as Character. — The ideal condition as regards 
volition is not that of being able merely to respond in a 
relatively fixed set of ways under varjdng conditions. It 
consists more particularly in being able to see the correct 
meaning and implication of every situation in which one's 
experience may place him, and in being able to act in the 
highest manner suggested by this situation. Every object 
of thought has its interesting side if one can only find it, 



134 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

and he wlio can deliberate longest and most thoroughly 
is the one most likely to make this discovery. He is rich 
in thought resources. 

Successful volition is its own reward. There is a pleas- 
urable sense of power from within in store for him who can 
make every trying situation contribute to his higher char- 
acter-development and thus realize his ideals. For him, 
there is a zest in every new experience, and life is a joy unto 
him forever. 



REFERENCES. 



1. James,— Briefer Course, Ch. X, "Attention." Ch. XX, "Vo- 
lition." 

Angell, — Psychology, Ch. XX, "Elementary Features of Voli- 
tion"; Ch. XXII, "Character and the Will." 

Titchener, — Outline of Psychology, Ch. X, "Voluntary Move- 
ment." 

Dewey, — "Interest as Related to Will." (Pamphlet.) 

Halleck,— Education of the Central Nervous System, Ch. XI, 
"Motor Training." 

Thorndike, — The Human Nature Club, Ch. XI, "PurposiA'^e Ac- 
tion." 

Hilty, — Happiness, Essay II, "How to Fight the Battles of Life." 

2. Harris, — Psychologic Foundations of Education, Ch. XXX, 
"The Willand the Intellect." 

Baldwin, — Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology, article on 
"Volition." 



SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 135 



CHAPTER XII. 

SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 

A personal account of the way in which the average 
indivickial strives to direct his own thought processes 
would be exceedingly interesting. While it is true that 
there are many who give little or no effort toward direct- 
ing the trend of their thoughts, giving themselves up 
wholly to chance association, there are others whose 
career in a social, moral or business way can be traced 
more or less directly to autosuggestion as a factor. It 
is recognized as a good maxim that "As a man thinketh, 
so is he." That is to say, one's conduct is a direct ex- 
pression of his dominant thought. He lives out in mental 
pictures his characteristic acts before they are performed. 
But whence come these mental pictures? Are they forced 
upon us, or do we create them at will? Or, is a compro- 
mise between these two contraries nearer the truth? 
And, if the latter view is the correct one, what can be 
done to increase the ability to create mental images at 
will, and thereby direct one's own thought processes and 
form one's own character? 

The Power of Ideas. — This really becomes a question 
of the persuasive power of ideals, and by such is the 
progress of the world greatly hastened. But perhaps the 
term suggestion had better be limited to apply to cases 
in which the one influenced is constrained to take an 
unusual and unexpected course. When Peter the Hermit 



136 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

preached the first crusade, declaring "God wills it" in 
such a forceful manner, his words seemed to have a well- 
nigh hypnotic effect upon his hearers. The world knows 
the result. When the doughty Napoleon massed his men 
for battle under the shadow of the great pyramids and 
exclaimed to them, "Soldiers! forty centuries look down 
upon you today," the valor of those battle-scarred heroes 
was rekindled as if by magic. When General Phil Sheri- 
dan dashed in among his retreating troops at Winchester, 
crying, "Come on, boys; we're going back!" the latter, 
without knowing why, suddenly exchanged their idea of 
defeat for one of victory. 

The Crowd. — The mind of the crowd is different from 
that of the individual, in that it shows the effect of con- 
tagion. The opinion of the individual is temporarily 
swept away by the force of the unified sentiment of the 
crowd with which he is acting. The crowd is quick to 
act upon forceful suggestion. The war-cry, or the watch- 
word, must be simple, and capable of easy translation 
into concrete mental images, and the action will be per- 
formed with little or no reasoning. Thus, such expres- 
sions as, "On to victory!" and "Stand up for the party!" 
have done wonders in unifying the action of the masses. 
This is a form of hypnotic suggestion, pure and simple. 
The ideal condition for mob action is one in which the 
individuals are not reflecting upon the question at issue. 
Then let there be presented to their minds with force and 
suddenness a situation that calls for the execution of a 
quick vengeance, or speedy relief of some kind. Under 
such force of circumstances, sober men are often after- 
wards amazed at their own conduct. 

The leader of a mob needs to be a person of a positive, 



SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 137 

enthusiastic character, who has a personality somewhat 
striking, and a good, strong voice; and who can call out 
some sharp but smiple suggestion that will temporarily 
take possession of the minds of the crowd and incite to 
miity of action. These suggestions must point to some 
kind of conduct that can be easily imagined and easily 
and quickly carried out. The effect, imder such circum- 
stances, is often little less than magical. 

It is also easily shown that some individuals acting 
alone are easily moved by hypnotic suggestion. A strong, 
forceful statement of personal application is made, crowd- 
ing out of the consciousness of the susceptible person the 
old image, and creating a new one. As a result, the con- 
duct of such a person is at least temporarily changed. 
When the priest said to Jean Valjean, ''You belong no 
longer unto evil, but unto good! I have bought your 
soul today and given it unto the good!" the latter's whole 
character was transformed. He became a new man. The 
effectiveness of this method of reforming evil-doers, es- 
pecially those whose characters are yet in the formative 
period, is unquestioned. 

Autosuggestion. — It can be shown also that there is 
power and efficiency in autosuggestiorf. The one who is 
a positive force in the world carries constantly in mind 
strong suggestions of personal worth. They may never 
be uttered in words, but the thought is ever present al- 
though the person may never have become aware of this 
fact. Moreover, conscious effort in this direction is also 
possible and helpful. The one who lacks self-confidence 
and decision will be helped by making to himself strong 
affirmations of courage and steadfastness. The one who 
is nervous and excitable should speak to himself in quiet, 



138 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



soothing sentences: and the person of sluggish tempera- 
ment, in such a way as to accelerate his movements. In 
corroboration, here recall the strong, positive affirmation 
of the great emperor, Julius Csesar, ''I am fixed as the 
northern star!" and of the great reformer, Martin Luther, 
''Here I stand! God being my witness, I cannot do other- 
wise!" and of the great evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, 
" I simply take God at his word! " and of the great Saviour 
of men, Jesus Christ, ''I and my Father are one." 

It behooves every one who is interested in self-culture 
to inquire into his own case with reference to autosugges- 
tion, with a view to strengthening his personal character, 
both by supplying positive aids and by removing possible 
hindrances. 

The self develops in accordance with the nature of the 
mental food. The man whose mind is centered upon 
some high ideal draws upon all the available sources of 
supply for the means of his development. His power is 
cumulative. He is magnetic. Everything that he touches 
in his environment adds to his own strength and in turn 
receives an influx of spiritual light from him. It will 
be found that in working out his ideal he either intention- 
ally or inadvertently "suggests" to himself in strong, 
clear statements of personal advantage. In proportion as 
he does this the ideas that retard and hinder progress will 
drop out of mind and their, evil effects be no longer seen. 
Herein lies the secret of progress and of power, for the 
one who has learned to control the factors that enter into 
his mind unfoldment has found the key to success. All 
things are at his command. 

An Interesting Experiment. — Dr. Bernheim, the em- 
inent French expert on hypnotism, and professor in the 



SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 139 

University of Nancy, has recently published the results 
of some valuable experiments in the use of suggestion. 
He explains how suggestion may be shown to act upon 
functions independent of consciousness and will, as fol- 
lows: 

"1 register the pulse of a subject taken with a Marey 
spygmograph; at the same time I register the time with 
a seconds pendulum. I count the pulse out loud, but 
after a little time I count more pulsations than there really 
are; for instance, 120 instead of 60. I thus apparently 
record an acceleration during a certain time. I then find 
by examining the record that the pulse has really beaten 
faster by an average' of 9 to 10 pulsations per minute, 
while I have been counting faster, and has returned to its 
normal figure when I stopped counting. 

''In the following form the experiment may be made 
by anyone on himself. The experimenter walks at an 
ordinary pace. At a given moment he counts quickly 
while continuing to walk. The pace quickens automati- 
cally and instinctively, following the accelerated rhythm 
of the count without any intervention of the mind or the 
will, in accordance with the law of ideo-dynamism that 
I have fornmlated and that constitutes the mechanism 
of suggestion. 

''This experiment with the heart shows that the idea 
governs not only the voluntary life, the life of relation, 
but also the unconscious and automatic life, — a fact im- 
portant from the standpoint of therapeutics."* 

Suggestion in Disease. — It is now pretty generally 
conceded that mind processes always register their effects 
upon the body. By means of delicately constructed in- 

'*Froin the Literary Digest.Tol. XXX, No. 16. 



140 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

struments, it is possible to measure many of these effects. 
Much attention is also being given to the various aspects 
of mental pathology and therapeutics by some of the 
leading physicians. Quite a number of the latter are 
resorting to suggestion as a form of treatment for certain 
nervous and functional diseases, and with some show of 
success, too. 

In order to make a somewhat careful study of the in- 
fluence of suggestion as received from the printed page, 
and from lectures, the author sent printed inquiries to 
the deans of fifty of the leading medical colleges in the 
United States. Twenty-four replies were received. The 
questions, together with a summary of the answers, are 
given below. 

I. What per cent, of your medical students (estimated) feel 
decided symptoms of the disease studied early in the course f 

Not all of those replying to the general inquiry made 
direct answer to this question; but those who did esti- 
mated variously from two to one himdred per cent., the 
average being thirty-three per cent. One verj^ thought- 
ful physician answered as follows; ''Practically none, for 
the reasons that (1) Medical students are of more than 
average intelligence. (2) They do not study diseases dur- 
ing the first year, and when they do they have acquired 
some measure of a feeling of superiority to most forms of 
disease. (3) They believe that to a doctor, disease in 
himself is a stigma — a reflection on his knowledge. 

II. Is this effect most noticeable in the case of any special 
disease f 

Nearly all of those replying to this question gave dis- 
eases of the heart, kidneys and nervous system as being 
most common. One mentioned appendicitis. 



SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 141 



III. Do these cases yield readily to treatment f 

Some of the characteristic rephes : " Yes, by suggestion," 
"Moral support cures," ''Usually relieved, as soon as com- 
petent authority decides," ''Hypnotic suggestion relieves 
them." 

IV. It is held hy some that patent-medidne advertisements 
are vicious, tending to induce the diseases they are designed 
to cure. What is your opinion of this matter? 

This question brought out the most interesting replies 
of aU, Some of them follow : " People get the diseases by 
studying the advertisements." " They frighten people into 
the notion that they have all sorts of diseases." "They 
cause much damage to health and happiness." "Descrip- 
tit)ns of disease are always harmful to those who do not 
understand normal conditions." 

One member of a medical college faculty, who is now a 
well-known surgeon in the United States arm}^, wrote: 
"The patent-medicine advertisement is written by an ex- 
pert, wiio studies the weakness of humanity and skillfully 
plays upon it. The credulous or unreasoning victim reads 
over the symptons, finding that he really has some of them, 
and imagining that he has others. Persuaded by a long 
list of testimonials, he buys and takes one, two or a dozen 
bottles. Sooner or later he loses faith in the nostrum, but 
by that time an even more convincing advertisement ap- 
pears, and another cure is tried. The writer is personally 
acquainted with people who have taken nearly every patent 
preparation that is for sale." 

The dean of a Southern medical college said : "A theo- 
logical graduate consulted me concerning a supposed kid- 
ney disease. He got the idea that he was afflicted by read- 
ing the Medical Adviser. He was a perfectly well 



142 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

man. This is but one of the innumerable cases that every 
physician meets with." Another says: "A man came 
into my office recently all doubled up with pain. Pointing 
to an illustrated advertisement in a paper which he car- 
ried, he showed me an exact description of his disease. It 
was very hard for me to convince him that there was noth- 
ing the matter with him, but such was the case." 

Victims of a Delusion. — The dtipes of the patent- 
medicine advertisement of to-day are innumerable. The 
author has investigated this matter for some years, having 
interviewed scores of people on the subject. Many drug- 
gists have told him that it is the advertising alone that sells 
the preparation. Quality has little or nothing to do with 
the case. A harmless mixture of grape-juice and molasses 
will find a ready market if properly advertised. Millions 
are spent every year in getting this business before the pub- 
lic. Before me lies a full page of a daily paper containing 
the picture and testimonials of forty-two ''prominent so- 
ciety women who have been cured." The pictures of many 
governors, congressmen, and other high officials adorn 
another page. Another likeness shows the victim writhing 
in all the agonies of the disease. It seems so real that one 
can almost hear him groan. People are hypnotized by 
these pictures and descriptions. The typical • advertise- 
ment reads about as follows : 

"Are you cross and irritable, and conscious of pains in 
the back and loins at night ? Do you have that tired feel- 
ing and a bad taste in your mouth in the morning? If so, 
your system is all run down and you are threatened with 
appendigripus. A bottle or two of Uneeda-ba-la-hay will 
cure you. But there is danger in delay.'' 

Many good authorities believe that all descriptions of 



SOME NOTES ON SUGGESTION. 143 

disease in ordinary periodicals are detrimental to the public 
welfare, and that as such they should be prohibited by law. 
Until such prohibition can be brought about, all who in 
any way have charge of the education of the young should 
forewarn them against any possible deception of this na- 
ture* 



REFERENCES. 



1. Griggs, — The New Humanism, Ch. Ill, "The Dynamic Char- 
acter of Personal Ideals." 

Quackenbos, — Hj^notism in Mental and Moral Culture, "Auto- 
suggestion," pp. 33-51. ■ 

Stratton, — Experimental Psychology and Culture, Ch. XI, "Imi- 
tation and Suggestion." 

Hoffman, — Psychology and Common Life, Ch. VI, "Hjrpnotisrh, 
Its History and Present Status." 

Dresser, — Education and the Philosophic Ideal, Ch. V, "The Spir- 
itual Ideal in Childhood." 

2. Sidis, — The Psychology of Suggestion. 
Le Bon, — Psychology of the Crowd. 

* Since this text was written, Collier's Monthly magazine and The Ladies' Home 
Journal have raised a vigorous protest against the vendors of these patent 
medicines. 



144 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
PSYCHOLOGY OF STUDY. 

The normal, healthy mind craves experience, and will 
have it in some form or other. But there is a problem as 
to the way in which mental activities are to go on. Are 
they logically related, purposive and persistent? If not, 
can they be made so? That is, can the method of apply- 
ing the mind be so improved that it will do more work in a 
given amount of time and do it better and more easily? 
A discussion of these questions will, incidentally, lead to a 
further treatment of the subject of volition. The interest 
here, however, will have reference to one special aim. 

Physical Conditions. — For advantageous study, cer- 
tain conditions of health and environment are presupposed. 
The thoughtful student will look diligently after these, for 
they are important mechanical means to efficient mental 
work. 

The first of these is a detailed care of the body. Acute- 
ness of mind varies with the health and vigor of the body. 
The one who abuses his health wantonly, thereby lowers his 
self-respect and dulls his sensibilities. Eating to the point 
of sluggishness, and at irregular hours; denying oneself 
the recuperation that comes from a good night's rest and 
a little daily outdoor exercise; the indulgence in stimu- 
lanta and narcotics, — these would be illustrations in point 
here. The student who takes a rational care of his health 
is likely the one who can most successfullj^ convert the 
starches, carbons, phosphates, etc., into mind-product. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF STUDY. 145 



The temperature and ventilation of the study-room are 
important matters. There should be a thermometer at 
hand to determines the former, and comparative evenness 
should be the rule, with the mercury at about 68 or 70 
degrees. The ventilation of students' rooms is notoriously 
bad^. Some are never known to open a window during an 
entire winter. A dull, cadaverous appearance and de- 
bilitated health are the sure result. The blood does not, 
under such conditions, receive enough oxygen to support 
physical and mental vigor. It is well to keep one, window 
slightly lowered at the top at all times, if the room is a 
tight one. 

A Good Environment. — Orderliness and quiet sur- 
roundings are also conducive to good mental work. The 
yomiger student is often too easUy satisfied in these mat- 
ters. If the room does not have in it some suggestion of 
taste and refinement, it ought to be rejected. A dingy, 
disorderly study-room begets uneasiness and despondency, 
and it may often be held partially accountable for dissipa- 
tion and recklessness. An additional dollar per month will 
often secure the more desirable lodging-place. In every 
college town there are always a few lodging-places that are 
given over to rowdyism. The thoughtful student will shun 
such places as dangerous to mental and moral well-doing. 

It may seem wholly foreign to the subject under dis- 
cussion to speak of boarding-houses here, yet it can cer- 
tainly be shown that even this matter, if rightly looked 
after, will contribute to the mental improvement. A 
boarding-table where refined conversation and courteous 
manners are the rule is much to be desired, even if one con-, 
siders only the mental tonic that is furnishes. In a co- 

—10 



146 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

educational school there ought to be a mingling of the sexes 
in the dining-hall. It is often very trying to the back- 
ward, awkward young man to be compelled to sit at table 
with refined and cultured young women, but for the sharp- 
ening of his wits and the development of his ''nerve" 
such practice is highly recommended. 

As to Callers. — If a man steals fifty dollars of my 
money, he may be apprehended and punished by the law; 
but if he deliberately robs me of fifty minutes of my time, 
I have no recourse other than to suffer the loss good- 
naturedly if the pilferer is to be counted among my friends. 
But is this the right view to take of this matter ? Certainly 
not! The loafer is always at hand to impose his presence 
upon those students who are willing to indulge him in his 
habit. But such indulgence is a real mark of weakness on 
the part of any student. No self-respecting student will 
permit his daily routine of work to be broken up in any 
such way 

If the professional loafer comes, let the diligent student 
first resort to gentle, tactful means to dislodge him. Keep 
the book in hand and frown on him and "freeze" him till 
he goes. If this milder method fails to work, as it will in 
some cases, then express yourself positively in something 
like this manner to Mr. Loafer: "Please excuse me, my 
friend, but I am simply overwhelmed with work and can't 
spare the time to visit. Come in sometime when I am at 
leisure." Remember, however, the loafer's victim is partly 
to blame for having permitted the visits to begin. 

How Take Up the Work. — There has certainly been 
enough written on the subject of habit to sustain the pro- 
position that a regular method of study is advantageous. 
Every thoughtful student will plan his work systemati- 



PSYCHOLOGY OF STUDY. 147 

cally. He will likely find that at a certain hour in the day 
his mind is clearest and most vigorous. Accordingly, he 
will attack the mdst difficult and abstruse subject at this 
hour. The order of taking up the subjects ought also to 
be such that the mind will have a frequent change of kind 
of application. For instance, after an hour's exercise in 
logical reasoning, the mind might find a period of pleas- 
ing diversion in some study that would call out aesthetic 
appreciation. 

Use of Dictionary. — The dictionary habit is one that 
is acquired by only a few of the best students, and it is a 
valuable one if not carried to excess. The great majority 
of the words in one's- vocabulary are learned without the 
use of the dictionary, but the meaning of words infre- 
quently used must be obtained from this reference volume. 

The Masterly Method. — One will be pardoned for 
reminding the student again of the necessity of trying to 
get the general point of view of every connected treat- 
ment, and the special thesis of every chapter. This might 
be called the masterly method, as it gives the student a 
firmer grasp of the subject, makes it easier for him to re- 
tain and relate what he learns, and imbues him with that 
exhilarating sense of power which is so helpful in the 
further application of his mind. 

As a matter of fact, if the student is rightly adjusted to 
his work, every subject studied ought to impart to him a 
pleasurable thrUl of satisfaction by virtue of its supply- 
ing a felt want. If this form of personal contact between 
student and subject-matter can be brought about, the ques- 
tion of attention will solve itself. It is not necessary to 
urge the hungry youth to pay attention to his eating. 



148 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The Right Point of View. — The reflective student is 
likely to ask himself frequently the question, What is 
worth whUe? What value has this or that subject for 
me? In answering such questions the average student 
(and many teachers) is prone to commit a serious error, 
viz., that of viewing the subject in too practical a sense. 
"Why should I study algebra, anyw&y?" he asks; "I 
never expect to use it." But this statement implies an 
improper view of what education means. It is not a pro- 
cess of storing away and pigeonholing a set of facts and 
figures for ready reference in the future. This is a mere 
incident in the real process. The rational view regards 
education as a process of acquiring mental power and 
efficiency. 

"Knowledge is power," says an old adage. It is power 
of doing work. If this is true, the student can no longer 
rightfully say that algebra is impractical, since a knowl- 
edge of it certainly increases his power to think and to 
act. This same erroneous view of the meaning of a general 
subject of study, this "storehouse" view, is pretty likely 
to regard merely getting answers to problems as the goal 
of mathematical study. Such an attitude tends to stunt 
the growth of the intellect and to reduce aU mental work 
to drudgery. 

Working for Mere Answers. — What a dull, prosaic 
world this would be indeed if one should regard life as a 
process of merely arriving at answers or conclusions which 
are already foreknown! What if you knew just what is 
to happen in your life at this time tomorrow, or next week, 
or next month, or next year ? No, answers are not satisfy- 
ing in and of themselves, or serviceable in any other sense 
than that they may be used in getting at the next problem. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF STUDY. 149 

And it is not the event in your life that you foreknow 
exactly and await expectantly, but it is the problematic 
— the answer that is going to depend for its form wholly 
on your efforts — that interests you most and gives you 
courage to struggle on. One of the chief values of this 
point of view is the fact that a wrong answer is often as 
serviceable as a correct one. The failures themselves hereby 
become serviceable and no serious, honest effort is lost ; 

"For men may rise on stepping-stones 
Of their dead selves to higher things." 

I dwell at length on this subject only that the student 
may realize, if possible, the meaning of this teleological 
point of view. 

Studjring to Learn. — This discussion ought to make 
clear my next point, which is this : Don't prepare a lesson 
merely to recite it; try to master it for yourself. Don't 
keep asking yourself, Can I tell this in class tomorrow 
and receive a good grade on it? Ask yourself, rather, 
What meaning that is vital to me does this subject-matter 
contain? The recitation will then take care of itself, and 
you will be less nervous in performing your part of it. 
Every member of the class ought to try to take some part 
in every recitation, for in this way one's interest in a sub- 
ject is deepened and he is inspired to further study. 

A Higher Standard of Student Work. — A little care- 
ful investigation will convince one that there is often a 
wide variation in the standard of work done by schools 
that are nominally of the same grade. It is my opinion, 
moreover, that an instructor cannot reasonably expect 
"first-class results from the recitation until the students 
under his tuition come to regard their work of preparation 
as serious business. Not that I would make the life of 



150 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

the average college student more sober and sedate. He 
must have time for amusements and other forms of recre- 
ation, but these diversions ought not to encroach upon 
the time set apart for study and sleep. 

With a view to aiding the student, if possible, in a more. 
systematic and effective method of study, the writer of 
these lines prepared "Ten Commandments," and had 
them printed _ in attractive form on heavy cardboard 
suitable for hanging in the study-room. These were, dur- 
ing the period of two lecture courses, distributed among 
nearly 1000 freshmen students. At the top of the card 
in large type were the words: 

HOW TO STUDY. 

1. Have a Program. — The student who follows the same program 
of study and work every day thereby calls to his assistance a power- 
ful agency, viz., habit. It is this way: For instance, if you study 
algebra every day from 2 to 3 p. m. you will soon find the mind better 
prepared to master algebra at that hour than at any other. Try it! 

2. Have a Method. — Every paragraph you read has, or oiight to 
have, a central or specific idea. Find this point and note it carefully. 
Before beginning the day's duties, have in mind an ideal standard of 
excellence, and then strive to reach it. In this way one accumulates 
mental power, generates his own enthusiasm, and contributes di- 
rectly to the biiilding of his own character. 

3. Train Your Attention, — Positively refuse to permit your at- 
tention to be drawn away from the task it is engaged upon. Herein 
lies the secret of power, and of much so-called genius. If the mind 
wanders, bring it back to the point and hold it there persistently. 
See that your efforts in this respect are not hindered by sluggishness 
resvilting from insufficient sleep or improper ventilation. 

4. Test Your Strength.. — One of the best tests of mind concen- 
tration comes during an effort to study in the Ubrary. About half 
of those who pretend to study there waste their time in the childish 
habit of gazing at those who are moving about the room. If you 
can't possibly resist the temptation to stare at others, close the book 



PSYCHOLOGY OF STUDY. 151 

and feast your eyes for a few minutes, then study diligently for a 
while ; but don't try to do both at once. 

5. Be Orderly and Systematic. — Good order and system about 
the study-room are aids to scholarly work, while disorderliness and 
untidiness are indicative of incoherent thinking. Moreover, these 
bad qualities, if allowed to continue, mil become a menace to your 
own success later in life and a great annoyance to some one who will 
have to hve with you. Motto: A place for everything and every- 
thing in its place. 

6. Be Punctual. — Tardiness and irregularity in attendance to 
duty are two bad habits that may be easily broken if the matter is 
undertaken in time; but, if permitted to go on imchecked, they are 
sure to bruag about loss of interest, and discouragement. To meet 
all of one's appointments promptly is an evidence of stability of char- 
acter, and a good indication of worthy attainment. 

7. Take Exercise. — To deny yourself time and recreation is to 
dull and enfeeble the intellect. When sluggish, a brisk five-minute 
walk may be the means of filling the kmgs with fresh air and of ac- 
celerating the circulation. This wiU give increased brain power and 
clearer thinking. And then, don't neglect to take regularly seven or 
eight hours of unbroken sleep. 

8. Be Cordial. — On the proper occasion, always greet others with 
good cheer and cordiality. Such conduct puts a warm glow into the 
heart and begets a buoyancy of spirit that tends to refresh and clarify 
the mind for the work that is before it. The best students are usually 
active in some form of college society. Loafing, however, is abom- 
inable. 

9. Cultivate Pure-Mindedness. — ^There is so much that is inspir- 
ing and ennobling to think about. Therefore discard at once and 
forever every unworthy and debasing thought. Plain, simple living, 
high thinking, and spirituality make up a trio of real virtues, each of 
which aids the others. Even ten minutes given to some form of soul 
culture before retiring every night will, in time bring noticeable re- 
sults in spiritual growth. 

10. Remember — Real geniuses are pretty scarce. Perhaps you 
may never become one. But you can become a member of the great 
class of faithful, dihgent workers, and thej'' are the people who are mov- 
ing the world to-day. Nearly all the students who fail in their classes 
do so on account of lack of diligence ; very few from lack of abUity. 
If you would master a subject easily, pay special attention to its 
fimdamental principles given at the beginning of the term. 



152 



PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



FACSIMILE OF PROGRAM TO BE FILLED OUT BY THE STUDENT. 



A. M. 


P. M. 


6: 00 to 7:00 


..Study 

. . Breakfast. 

. . Chapel. 


Fifth Hour 


7: 00 to 7: 30 

7: 30 to 8: 15 

8: 15 to 8:30.' 


Sixth Hour 

2 : 45 to 3 : 30 

Seventh Hour 


. ". Drill. 


First Hour 


Eighth Hour - - 


Second Hour 


5: 30 to 7:30 

7: 00 to 8:00 

8 : 00 to 9 : 00 

9 : 00 to 10 : 00 ... . 
10 : 00 


.Supper; 
recreation. 

. Study 

.Study 

.Study 

. Retire. 


Third Hour 


. . Dinner. 


Fourth Hour 


11: 50 to 1:00 



REFERENCES. 

Putnam, — Manual of Psychology, Ch. 1, "What Education Is." 

Gordy,— New Psychology, Ch. XLI, "The End of Education." 

Hinsdale,— The Art of Study, Chapters III, IV, "The Art of Study 
Defined." 

Olston, — Mind Power and Privileges, Ch. XVI, " Subjective Train- 
ing." 

Black,— The Practice of Self-Culture, Ch. IV, "Instruments of 
Mental Culture." 

DeGarmo, — Interest and Education, Ch. IV, "The Subjective and 
Personal Side of Interest." 

Thorndike,— The Human Nature Club, Ch. Ill, " Different Ways 
of Learning." 

Larned, — A Primer of Right and Wrong, Ch. VII, "Right and 
Wrong in Business." 

Gordy, — A Broader Elementary Education, Ch. VI, "The True 
End of Education." 



PSYCHOLOGY OF WORK. 153 



CHAPTER XIV. 
PSYCHOLOGY OF WORK. 

Work is a virtue, idleness is a vice. Work, rightly 
carried on, brings happiness and contentment; idleness, 
prolonged, begets discontent and despondency. Fortu- 
nate indeed are the j^oung man and the young woman 
just entering mature years and assuming the more serious 
responsibilities of life, if they have been trained to work 
from the time of childhood on. Every little child, even 
as young as four or five years, ought to be required to do 
some little task every day that he does not regard in the 
light of play. The simple task of bringing a book or a broom 
from another room would suffice. 

Early Perseverance. — The lad that is expected to 
develop into a worker must be taught early to persevere. 
While he is arriving at the age of accountability such a 
lad needs a sympathetic person to manage him and direct 
his movements. A parent ought to be the most suitable 
person for this responsible position, but he needs as a 
preparation for the task, to add to his own character the 
entire catalogue of good graces, — patience, temperance, 
meekness, fatherly-kindness, charity, etc. A part of this 
oversight of the boy should consist in seeing that the latter 
actually accomplishes every day some real work that is 
suitable to his years. 

In order that this growing lad may secure proper co- 
ordinations of hand and brain, he ought to have explained 
to him, as far as possible, the necessity and purpose of 



154 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

the work being done. Many a lesson of manly courage 
may be inculcated at this time if the parent will only see 
that every failure or defeat is turned into a success or a 
victory. A superstitious belief among primitive men was 
that if you kill an enemy his strength is added to that of 
your own body. This might be modified to the effect 
that if one overcomes a real obstacle to success, so much 
courage is added to his mind. 

Overcoming. — Those who make a profession of train- 
ing bulldogs to fight are said to begin with the little puppies. 
Such a trainer first arouses the anger of his charge, then 
matches him with another of somewhat less fighting ability 
so that the victory may always be on the side of the former, 
and he therefore never knows defeat. Some such method 
must be pursued in training the boy to work. Give him 
much practice in overcoming the difficult situation. Half 
the problem of teaching the boy to work is solved just as 
soon as he can be made to believe and afterwards to know 
that he can accomplish any reasonable task. 

Work and Manly Courage. — ^Not long ago a young 
man nineteen years of age came to my office for " pointers" 
on how to acquire courage. He was a six-footer, broad- 
shouldered and good-looking, but extremely timid, and 
went about habitually entertaining visions of some one 
rising up and smiting him in some literal or figurative man- 
ner. I felt of his right arm, and was not surprised to find 
it soft and flabby. This young man was told at once that 
the first step toward manly courage in his case was to de- 
velop the muscles by means of exercise, and that a buck- 
saw would be a very suitable implement for the work. He 
resolved upon the more genteel practice of swinging Indian 
clubs and fighting the punching-bag. If he persists even 



PSYCHOLOGY OF WORK. 155 

in this form of exercise long enough, the desired courage 
will tend to come to him, for a strong, muscular young man 
feels his strength of body pronoxmcedly, and that is one of 
the first essentials to courage. 

Getting Something for Nothing. — Every young man, 
while learning to fight his way in this world, seems to go 
through a period of dishonesty. That is, he becomes for a 
time very much interested in " fenaps " and " luck " and easy 
short-cuts to success. He answers many advertisements 
in cheap papers wherein various desirable articles are 
"absolutely free" — and gets "bit" every time, as he 
should. He also believes in and invests in prize boxes and 
lottery tickets (if the law permits it), and confidently ex- 
pects something "to turn up" that will render hard work 
unnecessary in his case. The wholesome remarks of Rob- 
ert J. Burdette are fittingly quoted here imder the title, 
"Advice to Young Men": 

"Remember, my son, you have to work. Whether you 
are handling a pick or a pen, a wheelbarrow or a set of 
books, digging ditches or editing a paper, ringing an auc- 
tion-bell or writing funny things, you must work. If you 
look around you, you will see that the men who are most 
able to live the rest of their days without work are men who 
worked the hardest. Don't be afraid of killing yourself 
with work, my son. It is beyond your power to do that. 
Men cannot work so hard as that on the sunny side of 
thirty. They die sometimes, but it is because they quit 
work at 6 p. m. and don't get home untLl 2 a. m. It is the 
interval that kills. The work gives you an appetite for 
your meals; it lends solidity to your slumbers; it gives 
you an appreciation of a holiday. There are yoimg men 
who do not work, my son, but the world is not proud of 



156 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

them. The great busy world does not even know they are 
there. So find out what you want to be, and take off your 
coat and make a dust in the world. The busier you are, 
the sweeter will be your sleep, the brighter and happier 
your holidays, and the better satisfied the world will be 
with you." 

Choosing a Vocation. — After the young man has come 
to realize that hard work is health-giving and ennobling 
and necessary to success and happiness, perhaps he is ready 
to choose a calling for life. But let us see further. It is a 
mistake to urge a young man to decide upon a life vocation 
very long before his general education is finished, and be- 
fore his character is comparatively well formed. Until 
this period of relative maturity is reached, it is practically 
impossible to decide this matter wisely, and it is often haz- 
ardous to try to do so. 

Look about you and observe the great numbers of men 
who are engaged in a business that they don't like, and note 
how mean and sordid and narrow their lives are made for 
that very reason. Think of the irksomeness of the experi- 
ence of a man who is bound to some distasteful vocation for 
a half-century, "merely to make a living out of it," while 
during all this time his mind and heart are set upon some 
other kind of occupation so long vainly hoped for. It 
seems to me that much of this dissatisfaction can be traced 
back to the error of choosing a vocation too early in life. 

Work Made Easy. — It is my belief that if a young 
man be given a broad general course that will cause an 
awakening of his many-sided possibilities, and if he be 
taught to assume such an attitude toward work as I have 
described above, he will find his place in life by means of a 
kind of natural affinity. It will draw him to itself, and 



PSYCHOLOGY OF WORK. 157 

keep on attracting him as long as he occupies it. Now all 
this may seem foreign to the subject of the chapter, but it 
is not. The aim is to. show not only how to work, but how 
one's life-work may be made easy and attractive. 

Drudgery kills. But while there are many misfits and 
disappointments among men of business, there may also 
be found many who are in love with their work. The latter 
class is constituted of those whom we may see at all ages 
of life struggling on unflinchingly, enthusiastically, through 
stress and want and privation, gloriously overcoming every 
obstacle and inspiring the race. This is the meaning of a 
happy adjustment of one's life-work. 

An Avocation. — In- order to relieve the tedium or 
monotony of too much work of one kind, every man should 
have an avocation. This diversion should be of a very- 
different nature from the regular work. The one who fol- 
lows a sedentary life needs some kind of recreative and out- 
door activity, such as amateur gardening, floriculture, or 
an outdoor sport. The manual laborer might well take up a 
course of study or reading, and thus preserve a zest for his 
work. The one who works best is able to take his atten- 
tion entirely off his business during the period of recreation. 

Your Own Master. — All honorable work is ennobling 
if well done. It is not so much a question of what one does, 
as how he does it. The one who begins as a hod-carrier 
and does that with unusual faithfulness is likely to 
be called in time to the rank of a skiUed workman, and 
later to the responsible oflEice of a master-builder. It is 
simply a question of being absolutely faithful and true to 
the situation in which one is placed. This is the first 
great lesson in business success, yet only a few learn it. 
Moreover, this attitude of faithfulness toward one's duty 



158 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

naturally leads to an independent vocation, wherein one 
may experience the extreme pleasure of gathering the fruit 
of his own labor, little though it may be. If the young busi- 
ness man can be satisfied with a slow development of his 
business — drive it but not let it drive him — and at the 
same time habituate himself to a wholesome kind of moral, 
intellectual and religious life, he is, by virtue of this fact, 
the possessor of great riches. But if his over-ambition 
leads him to strive excitedly to outstrip his competitors, 
and to seek satisfaction in their overthrow, then is his work 
vain and the sweetness of toil is turned into bitterness. 

Working and Saving. — The workman who is honest 
with himself thinks of the future. He is willing to begin 
at the bottom at a modest income, and he is disposed to 
save a portion of that. He forms a habit of saving a little 
in a systematic way from each month's salary. In esti- 
mating the expense account for the month he will take out 
the amount to be saved first, and make the balance do him. 
This is the beginning of success. The first lesson in saving 
ought really to occur during childhood, when the little lad 
may be induced (not forced) to do without some of the 
things he desires. * 

Working and Thinking. — He who will not think as he 
works, must do his work twice, says an old proverb. It 
takes a young man a long while to learn to think for him- 
self. For that reason he ought to he given an opportunity 
early to do something that will bring him a small return in 
money or property. The busy father too often overlooks 
this matter, preferring to save time by directing the son in 
all that the latter does. As a consequence there is wrought 
into the boy's character a habit of dependence which he 
will likely be slow in overcoming. 



PSYCHOLOGY OF WORK. 159 

The workman who has a time and a place for every- 
thing, who knows where to find every tool that he may 
need, and who shows method and orderliness in its use, is 
certain to inspire his fellow-workmen with the highest 
respect. The laborer who is properly "keyed up" finds 
that there is a rhythmic movement in it all. Whether the 
implement used be pick, or shovel, or axe, or hoe, or walk- 
ing-plow, he will acquire a steady, even stroke or step, as 
the case may necessitate, and thus keep time to the regular 
out-and-in movements of his own breathing apparatus. 

As to Parasites. — Year by year, hard work seems 
gradually to be gaining a higher degree of respectability 
in this great land of ours. True, the drones and parasites 
are still numerous, but their position is gradually being 
rendered less tenable as well as less respectable by the great 
wave of sentiment in favor of manual training in the grade 
schools, industrial training in the higher institutions of 
learning, and the spirit of work in everything. The writer 
of these lines longs to see the day when idleness, even among 
those who have already a competence, will be considered 
disgraceful and frowned upon by all good people. 



REFERENCES. 



Miinstirbery, — Psychology and Life, Lecture IV, "Psychology and 
Art." 

Olston, — Mind Power and Privilege, Chapters XIII, XIV, "Care 
and Treatment of the Body." 

Canfield,— The College Student and His Problems, Ch. IX, "The 
Choice of a Life Work." 

Hilty, — Happiness, Essay V, "The Art of Having Time." 

Hillis, — The Quest of Happiness, Ch. V, "Happiness and the 
Problem of Work and Occupation." 

Home,— Philosophy of Education, "The Habit of Work," p. 238 f. 



160 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER XV. 

LANGUAGE. 

Language is at once the most wonderful and the most 
useful instrument in the possession of man; for by means- 
of it he may be enabled to make known every range of 
feeling, every shade of desire, and every depth of emotion 
of which he may become aware. 

Language Grows. — It has required thousands of years 
for the human race to reach its present high state of per- 
fection in language forms. Various means were devised 
even by primitive man to make his thoughts known. 
Gestures, nods, grimaces, written signs, and the like, were 
used to appeal to the eye. Accompanying these were 
vocal sounds, each standing for an idea. These primitive 
words took on a complex development somewhat like the 
growing branches of a tree, resulting at last in the many 
languages and dialects spoken today. 

The English language has its chief sources in the ancient 
Latin and Greek and the Anglo-Saxon, Its present-day 
growth is slow, and consists chiefly of words borrowed 
from modern languages, the French leading, also of cer 
tain terms that are being "coined" for scientific purposes, 
and a few slang expressions that are so fitting as to acquire 
respectability. Occasionally a word becomes obsolete 
and drops out of use. 

An Inheritance. — Man inherits a ready-made mechan- 
ism for making vocal sounds. One of his very first acts 



LANGUAGE. 161 



on arriving in this world is to set up a yeU. This act 
seems to be purely instinctive or impulsive. The mean- 
ingless noises and babblings of the infant gradually differ- 
entiate into the speech forms of the full-grown man. 
Slowly the words that the child utters and the acts that 
he performs are coordinated, each word finally becoming 
a sign of an idea, and thus the basis of his language is 
acquired. 

Imitation. — We tried to show in a previous chapter 
that imitation is an important phase of development. 
This statement applies with unusual force in the act of 
acquiring language. One by one the juvenile tongue 
learns to lisp the words heard spoken by others, and the 
significant fact here to be noted is that the child acquires 
incorrect word- and sentence-forms just as readily as cor- 
rect ones. He tries to give a true copy of what he hears. 
Much of the ''baby talk," which some older people enjoy 
so greatly, however, is probably not a true copy of what 
the child hears, but it is the best copy his little vocal 
organs are yet capable of forming. 

For various reasons "baby talk" and other imperfect 
word-forms are retained by many children for some years 
before there is a noticeable improvement in the language. 
These forms become habitual, they satisfy the needs of 
the child, and there is likely for some time no conscious 
effort on the part of any older person to correct them. 

Correcting "Baby Talk." — While baby talk is re- 
garded by many as ''cute" and entertaining, it cannot 
go on very long unimproved without seriously inter- 
fering with the child's mastery of the language. For 
at some time, either in school or out, these erroneous 

—11 



162 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

forms all have to be corrected; and the child's effort to 
correct them may, and often does, cause a hesitancy and 
an uncertainty that interferes more or less with fluency 
of speech. When speech is best and freest, it is thor- 
oughly habitual. That is, the image of the word just 
about to be spoken is not crowded out or interfered with 
by the image of any other word incorrectly used in this 
connection. 

If, for instance, the child is thoroughly accustomed to 
use 'Hooked" for 'Hook," for a long time after he learns 
better, to use the correct word will require conscious 
effort; and to that extent a break in the continuity of 
his thought and in the fluency of his speech will occur. 
For the reasons given and others that might be given, it 
is deemed advisable to correct when possible the child's 
first erroneous prommciation of a word. Those who have 
not tried this method may think it ridiculous and im- 
practicable, but they may be surprised to find how easUy 
it is applied after a little careful practice. 

Many people articulate poorly in common conversation. 
For that reason the child hears imperfectly the words 
spoken. The one who has ever tried to learn to speak a 
foreign language will appreciate this situation readily. 
The foreign words simply ' must be spoken clearlj^ and 
distinctly, in his hearing, or he will never acquire them. 
And then, imagine if you can the additional obstacle 
confronting some children in form of such expressions as 
"fise-zu" for ''if I were you," and " dontcherknow," "taint 
neither," and a himdred other cheap and slangy phrases. 
Such an unfortunate child will scarcely ever attain ele- 
gance and fluency of speech. 

E very-Day Practice. — It is often a difficult matter to 



LANGUAGE. 163 



convince the youth that it is important to use in every- 
day conversation the very best speech-forms at his com- 
mand. So he persists in the objectionable modes of ex- 
pression till the habit is thoroughly fixed and difficult to 
eradicate. This j^outh likely has one rule of speech for 
his chums and school friends, and another (seldom applied) 
for Sunday when there is "polite company." For this 
reason, he probably finds it difficult to converse with the 
pofite stranger, as the effort is too self-conscious. 

The one, therefore, who would make satisfactory prog- 
ress in his own language culture, must adopt but one 
rule, viz., that of using at aU times and on aU occasions 
the best expressions of which he is capable. Whether in 
the home, or in the school, or on the street, he will prac- 
tice the correct forms of expression mitil they become 
thoroughly habitual with him. The only caution neces- 
sary here is that the language-student avoid all appear- 
ance of pedantry and affectation. 

Word-Imagery. — Now, notice what occurs just as you 
are about to utter such an expression as " There is a shower 
coming." The sound of the words seems to ring in your 
ears before they are spoken, and the feeling that accom- 
panies the movement of vocal organs in uttering this sen- 
tence seems to be present in dim outline before the lips 
begin to move. This is the word-imagery which seems 
to run just a little ahead while one is speaking, and with- 
out which ordinary speech would not be possible. Until 
one is thoroughly practiced in vocal expression, he is likely, 
at certain places, to find himself without an image of the 
next word, and so there is a halting effect. 

These images do not always come in form of single 
words, but more frequently in form of phrases. In fact, 



164 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

the one who is a master in the use of the EngUsh language 
has a ready-at-hand, well-committed stock of familiar 
phrases. These are worked in plentifully with the newer 
combination of words used on any occasion. 

Improving the Diction. — In my opinion there has been 
found no better method of improving the readiness and 
fluency of one's speech than that adopted by Demosthenes 
of old and Webster in modern times, namely, the practice 
of addressing inanimate objects or delivering apostrophes 
while one is alone on the seashore, or in the hay-field, 
or under the open canopy of heaven at night. Go out 
and try this, young man interested in self-culture ! Go 
forth alone at night and direct your speech to 

"The spacious firmament on high 
And all the blue ethereal sky," 

stopping not for the errors and blunders, especially at 
first, since there is no human ear to hear them. Train 
yourself, if possible, to become emotional on the occasion 
of these soliloquies, and your ideas will come more rapidly 
and the desired expression more easily. 

Refined Companionships. — Take a youth of, say, six- 
teen years, who is comparatively apt but unhabituated 
to a correct form of speech, and place him for a year in 
refined and cultured society. Unconsciously he will adopt 
a great many of the better and more elegant words and 
phrases used in his hearing. A really cultured person 
has a sort of unintentional way of urging his refined man- 
ners upon us. Fall in with him anywhere and you may 
soon observe yourself striving to conform to his high 
standards in both speech and morals. After a few years 
of this kind of companionship during the formative period 



LANGUAGE. 165 



it is found that the character of the young man or the 
young woman is largely molded over, according to the 
higher patterns. 

Language and Literature. — Wliat has just been said 
with regard to companionships will apply with equal force 
under this head, if slightly modified. If one is impressed 
with what he reads, the very words and sentences of the 
dissertation linger long m his memory and are appropri- 
ated in his conversation. The high-school pupil who is 
reading, say, Hawthorne's "House of the Seven Gables," 
will unintentionally use, in conversation with his school- 
mates, many partial quotations from the author's fine 
phrases. 

A Practical View. — One of the chief aims of the dis- 
cussion at this point is to show that one kind of culture 
aids another. Language culture is very uninteresting 
and barren of good results if the instruction is merely 
technical and mechanical and not reinforced by its use 
of the kind of society that requires it. The author has 
about concluded that the formal study of grammar and of 
composition is simply a waste of time unless this study 
can have practical application in some situation that de- 
mands it and makes it interesting. He has seen entirely 
too much study of grammar merely for the sake of learn- 
ing granmiar — to get a passing grade in it. 

Observe the actual conditions with reference to one 
hundred high-school or junior college students almost 
anwhere west of New England, and you will find that 
the majority of them wantonly violate many of the rules 
of gramanar in their every-day conversation. What is 
the matter? A partial answer to this question is that 
they have been graded and passed on theory instead of 



166 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

practice. This method of grading permits the average 
student to go through the theory of the subject and at 
the same time retain entirely unbroken the faulty habits 
of speech. 

Interest in Language. — It is urged here that the stu- 
dent of language must be interested in something or some 
one that will furnish an incentive to the practice of good 
form. For example, the j^oung man who is courting will 
likely do his best at improving his diction while the ex- 
citement attending this particular ''pursuit of happiness" 
is on. During his solitary moments, he will think out many 
suitable forms of expression to be used in his next conver- 
sation with the object of his affections. This is real lan- 
guage culture, for it is carried on while interest is at its 
height and while its practical application to life is most 
apparent. 

Another form of excellent practice in language culture 
is found in letter-writing. In such practice one is almost 
certain of an appreciative reader, and, hence, an incentive 
to learn. Those who are acquainted with the pleasures of 
receiving and replying to a cordial letter from a friend or 
relative, know how much training in careful expression 
of thought this fact implies. The mind is given exercise 
in forming statements that are precise, cogent, or elegant, 
as the case may necessitate. This again, is language cul- 
ture. 

Letter -Writing. — Indeed, the value of social corre- 
spondence as a form of mind and character culture can 
scarcely be over-emphasized if it is rightly conducted. 
The author cannot refrain here from giving some_ sugges- 
tions on the subject. A business letter shouki be brief and 
formal. But a social letter, to be interesting, must contain 



LANGUAGE. 167 



more than a brief statement about the weather and the 
condition of the writer's health. Mere news items, of 
whatever nature, Ho not constitute the real essence of an 
interesting letter. It should be also reflective, revealing the 
true state of the writer's mind with reference to something 
that concerns the reader. To set forth an earnest desire 
or a profound conviction, or to express a kindly or affec- 
tionate interest in the welfare of one's correspondent, is 
the peculiar privilege of the writer of a social letter. In 
using this privilege rightly he develops his own powers of 
expression and also adds a charm to the letter he is writing. 

Sincerity of Speech. — A great politician once said that 
speech was given to man in order that he might conceal the 
true state of his feelings from others. It may be true that 
" a man may smile and smile and be a villain," but he could 
be a much more thoroughgoing one without the smiles. It 
may be that fawning and palavering will pass current for 
their face value among the uninitiated, but these counter- 
feits are quickly detected by the true student of human 
nature. It behooves one, then, for both business and so- 
cial reasons, to cultivate frankness and sincerity of speech. 

To say on all occasions only that which is prompted by 
one's better self, and to say it forcefully and fervently, and, 
if possible, affectionate^, is to add to conversation such as 
nothing else can give. The one who has formed this habit 
will draw around him a host of worthy friends, and will 
soon fuid himself in possession of the language necessary 
for every occasion. ''Out of the fullness of the heart the 
mouth speaketh." 

Language and Business Success. — "I aui't got no 
time for that now," a senior college student was heard to 
say to another. That young man had carelessly permitted 



168 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

such bad habits of speech, acquired no doubt in childhood, 
to go on unchecked. He actually knew better, but then 
one cannot or does not think of the rules of grammar during 
the course of his conversation. That young man has been 
given his diploma, but, be it said to the shame of our sys- 
tem of teaching, he bears upon his conversational manners 
the marks of an illiterate. 

Day by day the business world raises its standard of 
requirement as regards the evidences of culture of its mem- 
bers. Some day the student referred to above, or his like, 
will make application for a position of responsibility ; and, 
after telling the would-be employer that he "has went" 
somewhere or other and "has saw" this or that place, he 
will go away wondering why the latter merely turned him 
away politely without any employment. Such, too, is 
likely to be the fate of the young lady applicant who sea- 
sons her conversation liberally with such expressions as 
"Oh, gee!" "Ain't it bum?" and "The swellest time," 
while she assiduously masticates her chewing-gum. 

The gentlemanly, business-like employer might regard 
the young lady just referred to as capable of taking high 
rank as a silly girl, but he could not consider her seriously 
as an applicant for a responsible position. A good sales- 
man or saleswoman is one who can command the very best 
and most correct forms of speech our language will permit. 
Nothing less than this will win the highest respect of many 
customers. 

There is a marked disposition among men who are stu- 
dents of the applied sciences to disregard the necessity of 
language and literature study as well as the pursuit of 
other subjects that do not pertain directly to their chosen 
vocation. But such is a serious error, as the events of later 



LANGUAGE. 169 



life so often prove. In many a rural district in the Middle 
West it is often difficult to find a candidate for the legisla- 
ture who has sufficient command of the English language 
to give him ability as a statesman. It is one thing to think 
and quite another thing to express one's views effectually 
before an audience. Such ability can be acquired only 
through practice. 



REFERENCES. 



Calkins, — Introduction to Psychology, "Language Related to 
Thought," p. 248 ff. 

Stout, — Groundwork of Psychology, Ch. XIII, "Language." 

Preyer, — The Development of the Intellect, Ch. XVII, "Learning 
to Speak." 

Hinsdale, — Teaching the Language Acts, Ch. Ill, "The Vernacular 
as An Educational Instrument." 

Baldwin, — Social and Ethical Interpretations, "Method of Learn- 
ing Language," p. 128; "The Social Use of Language," p. 274. 



170 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER XVI. 
SELF-CONFIDENCE. 

What opinion should one have of himself? Should one 
believe that he can accomplish almost anything he cares to 
undertake? Does one's merely believing that he can do a 
thmg help him in any way ? What is self-confidence, any- 
way? And how is it related to such matters as courage, 
conceit, egotism, f oolhardiness ? Is there a really whole- 
some and helpful attitude of mind toward one's self, which 
one may learn to assume ? These are some of the questions 
that suggest themselves at this point of the discussion. 

The conceited person places an estimate upon his per- 
sonal appearance or worth such as cannot be accepted by 
his fellows. It may be a case of too much pride or vanity. 
The egotist is regarded as extremely selfish in some form or 
other, and to that extent he is an objectionable character. 
The foolhardy man is lacking in at least one very essential 
instinct, viz., fear, and his life is therefore likely to be cut 
off. Courage is more nearly synonymous with the subject 
of this chapter, as it suggests self-mastery in trying situa- 
tions. Self-confidence might be defined tentatively as the 
courage to go forward and do one's best under all circum- 
stances. 

Experience Again.— It becomes apparent, from all 
that has been said in previous discussions, that experience 
is an important prerequisite to self-confidence. Whether, 
for instance, a young man is for the first time about to enter 
upon a business career, or to become a school teacher, or to 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. 171 



propose marriage to the one he loves, it is altogether likely 
that his true courage will be proportionate to the amount 
of related experience he has had. The self-reliant person 
pushes into the new field of activity energetically although 
laiowing only a part of this new field. The young business 
man will profit in the beginning from having learned to 
converse in a serious way with men, and from having at 
least a fair theoretic knowledge of the proposed work. The 
young teacher will find it advantageous to have been much 
in the company of children, and the young lover wiU pro- 
ceed "with less fear and trembling if he is accustomed to the 
every-day society of j^oung w^omen. 

Habit Again. — ^The wiiter is acquainted with two 
yomig men, one reared on a- farm and the other in the city, 
both of whom became by necessity thoroughly habituated 
to work while they were out of school. If a tool or instru- 
ment was broken, the farm boy often had to mend it or 
devise a substitute for it, as his work had to go on. The 
city bo}'' served in various capacities in a manufacturing 
establishment wherein carefulness and originality were 
alw^ays rcM^arded. These two young men thus acquired 
the very first lesson in self-reliance, the habit of working 
under trying or perplexing circmnstances. 

Thus it is seen, that to work faithfuUy and honestly in the 
situation in which one is placed, even when the immediate 
reward is not at all in sight, and to turn the thoughts toward 
victory when defeat seems already to have come, is to form 
the beginnings of a self-reliant character. 

The Question of Faith. — Suppose you and I are takmg 
a carriage-ride together in the country, and I suddenly 
draw up the reins and say, "Look ahead there, man; the 
road seems to come to an end a half-mile away. I am not 



172 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

going any farther." "You are wrong/' you would imme- 
diately reply; "have faith and go forward, ray friend; 
the road will open up to view as fast as you need it!" 
Such a conversation would hardly occur, yet something 
very similar often does occur, to the author's personal 
knowledge. For, how often there has come to him some 
young man under twenty with the statement that he is 
"going to quit college for good," as he has only enough 
money to take him through the current term. 

Adversity.— Such a young man is lacking in one of the 
most essential qualities of sturdy young manhood, viz., 
faith in himself, self-reliance. To him one might repeat 
the words above, " Have faith and go forward, my friend ; 
the way will open up as fast as you need it." The cow- 
ardly, weak-kneed fellow is simply fixing his attention on 
the wrong side of the undertaking before him, — the failure 
side. He must shift his eye to the successful goal and go 
forward. I may seem harsh in saying it, but the evidence 
is unmistakably to the effect that there is many a chicken- 
hearted youth in this land who is such because he has been 
brought up too tenderly. Such a boy ought to be kicked 
and cuffed about for a while. He ought to be taken 
through a course of "hard knocks," wherein there is smart- 
ing and hungering and considerable weariness of the flesh. 
One year of practical "roughing it" will do more toward 
developing a self-reliant character than a decade of moral- 
izing on the subject. " Blessed is the school of adversity." 

For Both Sexes. — I cannot for the life of me see why 
this lesson of adversity should not be applied in modified 
form to young women as well as young men. In my opin- 
ion, every young girl should have some hard work to do 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. 173 

during her growing years; not so arduous, of course, as to 
overtax her vitality, but yet, a certain amount of real 
drudgery. Such experience is essential to self-reliance and 
healthy-mindedness in the woman-to-be. When two young 
people become yoked together for life, after having had 
these lessons in hard work, self-dependence and frugality, 
it is pretty safe to predict that they will build up a happy, 
harmonious home. 

The Pioneer. — Hard conditions bring out sterling 
qualities of character. Of this fact, there are thousands of 
shinmg examples among the pioneers of the West. They 
went forth without purse or scrip, but with vigorous health 
and with faces set like flint, and made the desert place blos- 
som like a garden. This is not true of all of those who 
made the venture. Thousands soon became disheartened 
and went back, leaving the sturdier race behind. It w^as 
a case of the survival of the fittest. Many of these sur- 
vivors became wealthy in a land where they were expected 
to starve. 

It is a law that persistent effort brings success. These 
sturdy pioneers soon discovered that, notwithstanding a 
variety of menacing conditions, in a series of years the 
successes overbalanced the failures. So the young person, 
if rightly trained, discovers in time that it is only necessary 
to be true to the promptings of his better self ; for by press- 
ing forward in a confident manner he finds that more than 
half of his trials are successful. 

The Pessimist. — The pessimist is a person who is out 
of time mentally. Shun him, happy youth, for he goes 
about breathing out flame and smoke. Discord and dis- 
couragement are in his path. You wiU meet him in so- 



174 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ciety and state gatherings propagating mental disease and 
disloyalty. Even in religious circles you will find him deal- 
ing out moral distemper and disbelief. And 5^et the pes- 
simist has necessarily only one bad fault — ^he persists in 
looking on the dark side of things. He is consequently 
a disbeliever in himself, and he never begins an undertaking 
but that he says in substance : " Oh, it will faO ; there is 
no use trying. This thing will never succeed;" and it 
never does. 

The Optimist. — The optimist, on the other hand, thor- 
oughly believes in himself. By degrees he comes into an 
unswerving purpose in life and an unwavering faith that 
he can carry that purpose out. He has come to realize 
that a hand mightier than his own is guiding the destinies 
of men; and that, by the very nature of things, his life is 
divinely ordered. Unlike the evil-thinker, the optimist 
sees the bright side of everything, and as a result even the 
commonplace affairs of life inspire him. 

Confidence in Others. — The self-confident person of 
necessity believes in other people. Old as I am, it stirs me 
up to put forth greater effort to have people believe in me. 
The ordinary little child will do his utmost to come up to 
the standard fixed for him by the expressed opinions of his 
elders. The self-reliant person, therefore, is a benefactor 
of his associates. It is such an easy matter to drift down 
to the level of a gossip, and later to that of a defamer of 
character, and finally to that of the chronic misanthropist. 

If one goes about looking for the meanness in other peo- 
ple's character, he can surely find it. So can he find the 
good — more of it than he can enumerate in a lifetime. 
Happy indeed is he who has formed the habit of looking for 
the good. And so in every clime we find the stalwart, 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. 175 

self-reliant character, who, in the language of Senator 
Ingalls, might say : 

" Master of 'hurQaii destinies am I : 
Fame, love and fortune on my footsteps wait." 

Love and Self -Confidence. — Another of the great pro- 
moters of self-conficlence, as well as of long life and happi- 
ness, is love. Every one should by all means fall in love 
with something or somebody, or, better, with everj^body. 
It is impossible to define love. It is too great an attribute 
of the Divine Being and of the divinely ordered soul to 
admit of exact definition. The reader is referred to the 
thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, revised version, 
for further definition of the subject. Read it, study it. 
Meditate much upon it, and then work it out for yourself. 
Exercise what love you have and it will grow. 

Even the selfish love which singles out one individual for 
its exercise, will transform one's character. How very in- 
teresting it is to observe the ever-growing self-confidence of 
the verdant youth, who, while life's young dream is at its 
highest, is actively in pursuit of the object of his affections! 
How ideal the whole world seems to him, indeed ! Nothing 
now appears to him to be able to stand in the way of the 
realization of his most cherished hopes and desires, es- 
pecially after he has received that coveted affirmative 
answer to his proposal of marriage. Here the poet, S. W. 
Foss, makes him say so expressively : 

"Like a twenty-million orchestra away beyond all counting, 
The bob'links bubbled over in a music waterfall, 
And I felt jest like a-mounting on the meeting-house and shouting 

That Paradise was open, with admission free to all. 
Every grass-blade in the meadow was a string to Nature's fiddle. 

That was played upon by zephyrs with a velvety caress; 
A.nd old Nature's joints were limbered as she sashayed through 
the middle, 
When Melindy, my Melindy, told me 'Yes'." 



176 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

The happy, radiant soul is surely in love with somebody 
or something — ^with his helpmeet, with his sweetheart, 
with humanity, or with his occupation. Love is a great 
force that overcomes one's difficulties and wins his victories 
for him. It is a soothing balm to offer to one's afflicted 
friends, and a healing potion for the heart-sick souls that 
come within the circle of his acquaintance. 

Hope a Factor. — Another prolific generator of self- 
confidence is hope, but one of its greatest destroyers is de- 
spair. The one who, in the face of reverses, can maintain 
a hopeful attitude of mind, is already in possession of a 
part of the capital stock for his next venture, while the de- 
spairing soul is defeated for a long time to come. Hope is 
eternal ; despair is infernal. Hope is the sweet-scented dew 
that kisses the fresh flowers of morning ; despair is the bit- 
ing frost that nips in the bud the promise of a harvest. 
Hope is the fresh shower of April that woos the tender 
blade of sprouting grass ; despair is the hot wind of August 
that burns up the field of maturing corn. Hope puts the 
bright gleam into the eye and kindles the everlasting glow 
in the soul; despair marks traces of care upon the coun- 
tenance and smothers out the fires of enthusiasm. 

The Roving Disposition. — While a youth, the author 
of these lines spent many days alone herding cattle on the 
open prairies of Kansas. Early in the spring-time, when 
the grass was rather short, he noticed a tendency on the 
part of the cattle to run ahead. A little observation gave 
the explanation. Being seen at a more acute angle, the 
grass actually looked greener a few rods on. The cattle 
were victims of a delusion. And then there occurred the 
thought that many people are so much like these dumb, 
driven cattle. This disposition to rove, to give up a po- 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. ' 177 

sition or undertaking before it is thoroughly tried, to im- 
agine that some other position or station in hfe is better 
than one's own, — »this tendency is chronic with many peo- 
ple, and it becomes their greatest obstacle to success. 
"The good is not here, but yonder," they say; and away 
they go, chasing over mountain and stream and through 
forest and glade, seeking happiness and contentment in 
another land and another clime. 

How long, Man, wilt thou continue to commit this 
folly! How long must this error of the ages be repeated, 
this error of seeking happiness in some distant place! 
Roam as thou wilt over deserts and seas and through every 
land of the globe, and then come back weary and disap- 
pointed to thy humble abode, back to thyself, and there 
learn at last this truth of God: that happiness is not to 
be found exclusively in the outside world of men and ma- 
terial things, but that its home is in thine own soul, where 
it must take root and grow ere thou canst enjoy its bless- 
ings. Here thou shalt find peace and contentment. 

"The soiil, serene ia her existence, smiles 
At the drawn dagger and defies its point. 
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years : 
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth. 
Unhurt amid the war of elements. 
The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds." 

Self -Confidence and Riches. — Self-confidence is a form 
of mental wealth. But it has been demonstrated fre- 
quently that material wealth alone does not bring pleas- 
ure in proportion to its amount. Some of the meanest 
spirited and most discontented people are to be found 
among the rich as well as among the poor. Happiness 
cannot be purchased with money. There must be a sense 

—12 



178 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

of unworthiness in the mind of a man who sits down to a 
sumptuous meal with the thought that he has done nothing 
to earn it, but that every mouthful he takes represents 
the honest labor of someone else. On the other hand, it 
must be deeply gratifying to the eater to partake of a 
meal, plain and unadorned though it may be, with the con- 
sciousness that he has earned it or its equivalent on that 
day by means of honest work. 

It is maintained by those who ought to be able to speak 
with authority, that the most highly satisfying condition 
in life is to be able to earn a competence by one's daily 
work, and along with this to have frequent intervals for 
rest and recreation and intellectual improvement. They 
say that wealth consists not so much in the abundance 
of the material things that one may possess, as in his capa- 
city to enjoy. A millionaire may acquire legal title to a 
valuable tract of land, but he cannot buy the beauty of 
the lovely landscape. He may purchase the most beauti- 
ful painting in the world, but the appreciation of it cannot 
be obtained at any pecuniary price. "While the capacity 
to buy rests in the money, the capacity to appreciate must 
be in the man. A small capacity for buying with a large 
capacity for enjoying is far preferable to the converse. 

The reader has doubtless begun to think that the dis- 
cussion is becoming somewhat sidetracked. But the in- 
tention here is simply to indicate in some measure what 
constitutes that breadth and healthiness of mind which 
is most conducive to the fullest self-confidence. And so 
we are led to conclude that, in addition to being able to do 
some worthy work day by day, another valuable asset con- 
sists in the capacity to turn to one's own good account 
the commonplace events and experiences of every-day 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. 179 

life. In the highest sense of the word one is owner of all 
that he can appreciate and enjoy, and no more, and no man 
can either buy of take it from him. 

All things I see and love are mine — 
The cattle on a thousand hiUs, 

The flowers, the trees, 

The lakes, the seas, 
The mighty rivers and the rills. 

The everlasting worlds are mine — 
The planets poised in space on high. 

The Sims, the stars, 

The radiant bars 
Of light that beam across the sky. 

The living power of love is mine, 
Forever is my sure defense; 

And in that love 

I live and move, 
The expression of Omnipotence. 

Frankness. — So the self-reliant person soon learns to 
realize his ability to get good and to give good wherever 
he goes. He draws out the best side of other people 
and gives out in return the best that he has within his 
own higher nature. Others somehow feel assured after 
an exchange of glances with him that he and they are on 
intimate relations of good-fellowship. 

Another ingredient of the self-reliant, healthy-minded 
character is frankness. This world is fuU of good people 
who suffer unnecessarily day by day because they are un- 
able to speak out frankly what they know they ought to 
say. An illustration from life will be an aid here. A 
farmer or a merchant, as the case may be, has an employ^ 
who does not do things to suit him. But being just a 
little afraid of giving offense, the employer suffers the 
annoyance mentally and manages to relieve his dissatis- 
faction partially by telling others how ill-suited to the 
work this hired assistant is. Likely the latter -is con- 



180 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

sciously doing his best to please, and very likely, too, a 
frank discussion of the situation with the former would 
lead to a much better understanding between the two, 
and to a much more satisfactory adjustment of their 
relations. But without this frankness, an open rupture 
must come sooner or later. 

There are many women who employ domestic help, 
and who, instead of pointing out wherein the latter are 
unsatisfactory, as ought to be done in a frank, affection- 
ate manner, go calling among the neighbor-women and 
describe every weakness that the domestic may possess. 
Finally, during a fit of anger on the part of both, the 
helper is dismissed. There are entirely too many civil- 
ized people who cannot speak their minds freely until 
they become very much provoked, and then the effect is 
most displeasing both to the speaker (after he "cools off") 
and the one spoken to. 

In college communities in towns and cities where lodging- 
places are crowded close together, there are students who 
day after day thoughtlessly consume many precious hours 
disturbing the peace of others by scuffling, boxing, blow- 
ing on horns, and the like. And the pity of it all is that 
those who are disturbed cannot, as a rule, muster the 
courage to speak frankly about the matter to the offender 
until the point of extreme irritation is reached. Then, 
actual trouble follows and a lifelong estrangement may 
be the result. Be frank and open in your speech. If 
you can do so with a sincere motive of helping him, never 
hesitate to criticise candidly and affectionately one who 
is your so-called equal or inferior. 

Seeking the Truth. — If the young student can early 
become imbued with a love of truth for its own sake, he 



SELF-CONFIDENCE. 181 

thus takes a forward step toward self-reliance. The timid, 
backward student is always fearful that an investigation 
will reveal somettiing that will interfere with his precon- 
ceived ideas or plans. To be absolutely willing to have 
the truth laid bare, just as it is, is characteristic of a high 
order of scientific genius. Many a so-called scientific 
treatise is rendered practically worthless because of the 
author's apparent effort to make matters come out in 
confirmation of his prejudice. The true scientist is willing 
to sacrifice every preconceived idea at the altar of truth. 
He acquires a passionate fondness for the facts in any case. 
This scientific love of truth for its own sake makes one 
more aggressive in his efforts to know the world. 

The tyrannical, despotic ruler, the intolerant religious 
bigot and the supercilious society dictator are all examples 
of those who are mentally disturbed lest the particular 
group of minds over whom they hold sway should suddenly 
come into possession of a knowledge of matters as they 
actually exist. But the honest, healthy-minded student 
of life and the world confidently proceeds with the firm 
belief that truth is mighty and will prevail, and that 
each day's revelations will open up a view more wondrous. 
Such a person cannot help being both self-confident and 
optimistic. 

A Sense of Unworthiness. — It is surprising to find, 
as a result of investigation, such a large number of persons 
who are held back in life on account of some secret sense 
of unworthiness, or sin, or self-condemnation. They 
cringe and creep when they ought to soar aloft into the 
heavens ; they growl and grumble when they might bet- 
ter sing; they complain and curse their station in life, — 
3,11 this because they are laboring under the delusion th^/ti 



182 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

an evil fate has somehow marked them for some bad end. 
But if the weary one who is bowed down with a sense of 
unworthiness will rise up in all his might and take com- 
mand of himself as a living, breathing soul, clothed in 
power and majesty, this imagined evil fate will tremble 
and obey him. 

Every living creature has its purpose. "The early bird 
catches the worm" is an old maxim often quoted to in- 
spire youths to greater effort; and it is a very good one. 
But there are not a few people who seem disposed to ex- 
cuse their tardiness of action out of sympathy for the poor 
worm. This is a serious mistake. The worm was created 
to be caught just as surely as the bird was created to catch ; 
and it is the worm's business to be on the ground early 
in order to insure being caught. His whole life has been 
spent in preparation for this, its culminating point, which 
rounds out for him a successful career. Go forth, then, 
early and confidently, and either catch or be caught. If 
you can't be a bird, be a worm, a fish-worm for bait, — any 
kind, just so you have a function in life and perform it. 



REFERENCES. 

Olston, — Mind Power and Privileges, Ch. IX, "Practical Applica- 
tions." 

Hilty, — -Happiness, Essay VIII, "The Meaning of Life." 

Trine,— What All the. World's A-Seeking, Part IV, "The Awak- 
ing." 

Dresser, — Voices of Hope, Ch. VII, "The Escape from Subjec- 
tivity." 

Home, — Philosophy of Education, "The Notion of Self-Devel- 
opment," p. 207 ff. 

James, — Talks to Teachers on Psychology and to Students on 
Some of Life's Ideals, "What Makes a Life Significant," p. 265 ff. 



KNOW THYSELF. 183 



CHAPTER XVII. 
KNOW THYSELF. 

The Socratic Insight. — I think it was Goethe who said 
in substance that it is not given to man to understand the 
ultimate meaning of hfe, but he must nevertheless attempt 
such a solution if he would know what life really has in 
store for him as he lives it. It was Socrates who be- 
queathed this perplexing but ever-fascinating problem of 
self-study to the ages. 

Socrates was interested above aU things else in the well- 
being (Eudaimonia) of the individual, and he foimd the 
best method of promoting this highest condition of life to 
consist of insight into one's own nature. This charming 
old maxim, then, "Know thyself," with its endless depths 
of suggestion for self-study, I regard as expressive of one 
of the most fruitful achievements of early Greek philosophy. 

It is true that Socrates did not reach a full and com- 
plete knowledge of himself (for that matter, what philos- 
opher of to-day can do so?), but he was the first to attack 
the problem in a serious, methodical manner ; and the very 
fact that he went at the work barehanded, almost without 
any kind of suggestion as to the meaning of the subject, 
makes his achievement more glorious. It is also true that, 
measured by the standard of the average individual char- 
acter, Socrates-' view of the ethical subject was inadequate 
and one-sided; for he thought that, judging from his own 
peculiar type of mind, to know the right was equivalent 
to doing the right. The practice that must accompany 



184 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

theory in the usual case was thus overlooked. According 
to the Socratic definition of ignorance, Rousseau was one 
of the greatest of ignoramuses. For he said he knew, but 
could not do, the right. 

Its Significance. — But this self-searching method of the 
great philosopher, a half-truth though it may have been, 
was highly significant from the fact that it has been a great 
source of inspiration to philosophic thought for twenty- 
four centuries, and from the further fact that it was the 
first important step toward the discovery of the inner life. 
I believe it to be the part of every person today, philos- 
opher or layman, who may hope to develop into even rel- 
ative maturity of character, to devote some time to serious 
contemplation of some phase of this same problem of self- 
examination. 

After all, perhaps Socrates loas right. Perhaps our 
wrong-doing is all a result of ignorance of insight into our 
own lives. Perhaps, if I had the understanding of Soc- 
rates, trained though in evil I may be, this clear insight 
would simply impel me to act rightly in the face of all habits 
to the contrary. It would not require a very great stretch 
of the imagination to make a connecting link between the 
Socratic volition of insight and Professor James's volition 
of attention. 

Other Philosophers. — To trace the development of 
this task of self-scrutiny up to the present time, in any 
detail, would require an entire volume, but it might be 
worth while to enumerate some of the high places where 
its fruits stand out in bold relief. 

The one-sided Cynics and Cyrenaics were the first to take 
up a phase of this problem of the self in their efforts to find 
out what the good life is. * So did the Stoics and the Epicu- 



KNOW THYSELF. 185 



reans attack it in a more rational form. Especially did the 
later Stoics come into close relation with this subject in 
their search for a*method of overcoming the world by sub- 
ordkiating the self to the divine law of the universe. In 
the case of the self-oblivious ecstacy of the Neo-Platonists, 
and of the self-renunciation of the early Christians, not a 
little attention was given to self-scrutiny as a means of 
getting closer to God. 

And so have the great minds of all ages up to the present 
day devoted long, silent hours to prayer and meditation, 
wrestling with the spirit, as it were, in an inspired effort to 
fathom the depths of the riches of the human soul, in their 
imagination often coming in sight of the goal set up by 
Socrates and yet never reaching it. Whether we cite as 
evidence the spiritual doctrines of Christ, or the self-scru- 
tinizing skepticism of Descartes, or the charming pessimism 
of Schopenhauer, or the epistemological paradoxes and rid- 
dles of Kant, or the transcendental maxims of Emerson, 
or the cosmic consciousness of Walt Whitman,— in all these, 
and more besides, we find instances of great men who 
had implicitly in mind at least the equivalent of the old 
Socratic watchword. Know thyself. 

The Modern Aspect. — But this subject has a more 
modern aspect, and, it seems to me, a more scientific one, 
than these older writers have given it. There has been 
too much effort to study the mental self, as a merely given, 
imattached entity, without much reference to bodily 
growth or conditions. By this I mean to say that the 
genetic method so characteristic of the biological, evolu- 
tionary and physiological aspects of this study have been 
too much neglected, until recently. 

As an essential preparation for immediate self-study one 



186 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ought to be well acquainted with the leading facts of a 
number of the modern sciences ; that is, such facts as have 
contributed most directly to his present physical and 
mental condition. 

1. Note the biological significance of a nervous organism 
in relation to the ability of the creature to make adaptions 
to the environment. An understanding of the way in 
which the possession of the cerebral hemispheres enables 
the living organism to substitute mental for merely struc- 
tural adaptions, and thus to rise higher in the scale of ex- 
istence, is especially important. A further fact of mo- 
mentous consequences is that of the extremely long period 
of infancy peculiar to the human being, whereby he is en- 
abled to perfect a nervous organism more complex than 
that of any other member of the animal kingdom. 

2. The anatomical and physiological phases of this ques- 
tion would involve a study of the human organism with 
special reference to~ the nervous system, as well as a con- 
sideration of the functions of the latter in the maintenance 
of such great life processes as respiration, digestion, and 
assimilation. 

3. As an evolutionary study, one ought to acquaint him- 
self with the best modern interpretation of such matters 
as the origin of species, treated under such subdivisions as 
natural, organic, and mental selection, and fortuitous or 
chance variation. The question of the inheritance of ac- 
quired characters and congenital characters would also 
force themselves upon the attention. 

4. The sociological contributions to this quest of self 
would also be many. Man as we find him to-day is a natu- 
rally social and a highly socialized being, dependent, in a 
measure, upon his fellow-beings for all that he has and 



KNOW THYSELF. 187 



enjoys. The great significance of such socializing institu- 
tions as the family, the state, the church, the school and 
the special vocation would necessarily demand serious con- 
sideration. 

• 5. A serious study of psychology naturally furnishes a 
fitting climax to this long-continued quest of the self. 
Herein one is brought, as nearly as is possible, face to 
face with his own consciousness. By means of various 
experiments upon his own organism, during which the 
results are read in terms of the accompanying mental 
processes, one may obtain a close acquaintance with his 
perceptive processes. Any good modern text-book of 
psychology will furnish the method. And then if, supple- 
mentary to the foregoing, one will observe carefully, and 
experiment with, the operations of his own imagination, 
memory, attention, habit, emotion, and volition, he ought 
certainly to find a higher way of life. 

6. As an addition to the foregoing series of courses in 
self -study, I would suggest what here might be called 
revelation. My reason for not including it in the formal 
series is that it is not, strictly speaking, a study. After 
one has taken these scientific courses of study he cannot 
help being profoundly impressed with the many manifesta- 
tions of the "Hand that is divine." This being the case, 
his final full increment of power comes through simply 
waiting occasionally, silent and expectant, for the minis- 
trations of the Immanent Spirit. 

A Personal Description. — In order to direct the mind 
of the young student toward self-scrutiny, the author makes 
a practice of requiring each of his students in elementary 
psychology to supply answers to the questions given below. 
It has been found that this requirement is often the means 



188 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

of bringing the student's attention to some hitherto un- 
thought-of fact about his own personality. If a j^oung 
student is to accomplish anything worth while in an effort 
to develop his own character, he ought to be aware of his 
weaknesses as well as his strong points. 

Of the hundreds of students thus far required to fill these 
blanks, many have afterwards stated in substance that 
they were thereby made more conscious of a specijEic method 
of carrying on the work of self-improvement along with 
their other studies. These questions are printed on a card, 
and each member of the class is asked to fill out two,— 
one for himself and one for the instructor's files. A fac- 
simile of the card follows : 

1. Name, ■ — — — . 

2. Age, . Height, . Weight, . Com- 

plexion, . 

3. Temperament: 

(a) Choleric (thinks quickly, feels strongly) , 
(6) Sanguine (thinks quickly, feels weakly). 

(c) Phlegmatic (thinks slowly, feels weakly). 

(d) Melancholic (thinks slowly, feels deeply). 

4. Sociability. — Of High degree, Medium, Excessive, Select. 

5. Order. — Excellent, Good, Medium, Poor. 

6. Punctiuility. — Good, Fair, Careless. 

7. Persistence. — Strong, Medium, Intermittent, Weak. 

8. Self-Control. — Strong, Fair, Weak. ( Explain) . 

9. Favorite Study, . Most Difficult Study, . 

10. Ideal Vocation, . 



11. Defects (as a student), . 

12. Original Motto or Resolution, . 

-^Esthetic Appreciation. — Under this heading there 
were printed ten other questions, on the reverse side of the 
card. The student is required to fill the blanks, giving — 

1. The Most Desirable Possession. . 

2. The Most Beautiful Color. . 

3. The Most Suggestive Word. , 



KNOW THYSELF. 189 



4. The Most Delightful Sound. . 

5. The Most Beautiful Scene. — . 

6. The Most Delicious Thing to Eat. . 

7. The Most Fragrant Odor. . 

8. The Most Pleasing Object, to the Touch. . 

9. The Most Admirable Character. . 

10. The Most Beautiful Sentiment. ■ . 

The following course of reading is suggested as a guide to 
any who may be in pursuit of a serious study of self: 

Rogers, — Student's History of Philosophy. 

Spencer, — Principles of Biology. 

Darwin, — Origin of Species. 

Martin, — The Hmnan Body. 

Baldwin, — Development and Evolution. 

Fiske, — Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy. 

Royce, — Outline of Psychology. 

James, — Principles of Psychology, Vols. I and II. 



REFERENCES. 



Olston, — Mind Power and Privileges, Ch. XII, "Personal Power." 

Butler, — The Meaning of Education, "What Knowledge is of the 
Most Worth?" pp. 37-39. 

Thorndike,— The Human Nature Club, Ch. XVIII, "Some Deeper 
Questions About Human Nature." 

Hoffman,— Psychology and Common Life, Ch. VII, "The Relation 
of Mind to Disease." 

Stratton, — Experimental Psychology, and Ciilture, Ch. IV, "The 
Evidence for Unconscious Ideas." 

Griggs, — The New Humanism, Ch. II, "The Evolution of Person- 
ahty." 

James, — Talks to Teachers and to Students, "The Gospel of Re- 
laxation," pp. 199-229. 

Dresser, — Education and the Philosophic Ideal, Ch. Ill, "Equa- 
nimitv." 



190 PSYCHOLOGY AND' HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 

The most casual observation will convince one that 
people of all ages are more or less sensitive to the pres- 
ence of others. The mere child, after arriving at the age 
of discrimination between persons and things, will indi- 
cate this fact by some kind of conduct that relates to the 
presence of others. It may be a mere look of satisfaction 
or approval, or it may be a burst of laughter, or a cry of 
fear. Older people may be observed to indicate this 
awareness of the presence of others in scores of ways that 
are merely modifications or refinements of the more primi- 
tive, instinctive forms. 

Significant as these facts are with reference to any given 
situation, a closer observation will show, I hope to prove, 
that these various modes of response to other selves have 
a far deeper significance in determining the future con- 
duct of the individual. 

Conduct of Animals. — This sense of other selves seems 
really to be a deep-seated characteristic of the human 
race. Moreover, it is not a difficult matter to discover 
some manifestations of it in some animals of the lower 
order. It is a race instinct which has at least a kindred 
characteristic in all the animal species that tend to gre- 
gariousness. In an interesting experiment with dogs, for 
instance, I have been convinced that an ordinary mongrel 
may be seen to manifest no fewer than five distinct at- 

* A paper presented at the University of Chicago for a graduate degree. 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 191 

titudes toward those of its kind. Let the series range 
all the way from an innocent, playful puppy to a burly, 
ill-tempered bulldog, and, especially after he has become 
acquainted with them, each one will draw out from him 
a different expression of mood. This fact will be indi- 
cated plainly to the close observer by the '^pose" of the 
mongrel; i. e., by the position and arrangement of the 
ears, tail, nose, mouth, eyes, back, hair, etc. But it is 
my purpose to treat this subject with more especial refer- 
ence to the human species. Many of the various forms 
of the social sensitiveness probably find their origin in one 
conmion utilitarian instinct; namely, fear. The instinct 
to run away from danger helped to preserve the species. 
As the dangers from without grew less and social bonds 
within were strengthened, it is only natural that this in- 
stinct should differentiate into some refined modifications, 
such as bashfulness, shame, and the other forms of em- 
barrassment, which, if not utilitarian in the most vital 
sense, are at least utilitarian in a social sense. 

First, let us notice some of the more outward mani- 
festations of social sensitiveness in children. 

I. Fear of persons seems to be one of the earliest modes 
of this emotion. Darwin, Compayre, Preyer, and others, 
noticed indications of fear in the case of mere infants, 
ranging from two to six months of age. Fear is likely 
one of the most primitive instincts. Among savage and 
barbarous peoples, anyone not a member of the tribe was 
classed as a mortal enemy. So the child is fearful of any 
person not a member of his own immediate family. Even 
in the case of children, it can be shown that during fright 
many physical reactions new to the organism are likely 
to occur. 



192 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

II. Timidity and shyness are manifestations of the in- 
stinct of fear, and appear somewhat later than it does. 
According to Baldwin, their physical manifestations are 
organic reactions that accompany mental and social atti- 
tudes. In such cases many of the normal activities are 
evidently inhibited, while new forms of movement are 
carried out. Many of the latter are merely variations of 
the normal type. 

III. Bashfulness is a common and somewhat pro- 
nounced form of social reaction. In case of children, 
Baldwin notes three stages: (a) organic, diiring the first 
year; (6) social toleration, appearing a little later; (c) 
real bashfulness, without fear, third year or later. A well- 
known manifestation of this emotion is blushing, which 
is usually noticed first some years later, and which be- 
comes more frequent and more marked during youth. Dar- 
win says that the reddening effect of blushing ''is a result 
of capillary disturbance caused by the attention being 
directed to that part of the body," i. e., the face; and 
''Originally self -attention directed to personal appear- 
ance in relation to the opinion of others, was the exciting 
cause." Royce would probably characterize bashfulness 
as a modification of what he calls "instinctive restlessness." 

Here again, inhibitions, approaching in some cases 
temporary paralysis, are easily noted. Nervous twitch- 
iiigs, trembling, palpitation, and the like, are the usual 
accompaniments. What I want especially to remark, 
without discussing the matter here, is that, as a result of 
this bashfulness, the individual is likely to execute many 
movements, both mental and physical, that are new to 
the organism. 

IV. Showing off, as a form of emotional response to 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 193 



other presences, has many variations. But here again 
in every case, under stress of the embarrassing situation, 
the organism of the child seems to acquire many adap- 
tations that are comparatively new. It is evidont, of 
course, that in the process of securing these adaptations 
there will be much of the hit-Or-miss, trial-and-error, kind 
of movement; but it will count as a part of the general 
experience, enriching the mental life of the individual. 
From this point of view the errors have as much relative 
value as the successes. In this connection, I cannot do 
better than quote freely from an article in the Pedagogic 
Seminary, by G. Stanley Hall and Theodate L. Smith. 
Of course, many of these acts are more or less imitative, 
but they are, nevertheless, acts that would not be micler- 
taken if it were not for the consciousness of being observed. 
In every such case, I think, the conduct would be classed 
as unnatural, or an intensified form of natural conduct. 
From the article mentioned above I select the following 
records of the conduct of children showing off before 
strangers, and also the cases of several older persons : 

1, male, four years old. Being watched at his play, 
would run as fast as he could, and fall down. 

2, male, seven years old. When watched at play, began 
to hammer the fence. ''See! I am moving this fence." 

3, male, five years old. First pants. Walked around; 
then began to kick, laugh, lie down, roll over, etc. 

4, female, five years old. New hat. Sits down. Holds 
the head first on one side, then on the other; . 

will get a book, stand on a chair, ''speak pieces," etc. 
Soon as people leave, she acts natural. 

5, female, seven years old. Likes to say things to make 

—13 



194 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

people laugh. Says whatever she thinks of first, whether 
good or bad. 

6, female, fourteen years old. Voice unnatural and her 
words do not sound like English when a certain boy friend 
is near. Sometimes the affectation continues after he is 
gone. 

7, female, two years old. Turned summersaults when 
calling. 

8, female, seven years old. Thinking herself watched, 
tried to walk in a fine way. 

9, two boys, aged eight and six years, playing "dares." 
The older one dared the younger one to put his foot on a 
chopping-block, which the latter did, and had his foot 
cut off at the ankle. 

10, male, thirteen years old. Servant. Company being 
present, let the pie slide off the plate on some one's dress. 

13, female, five j^ears old. Very bashful before strangers. 
Face grows red, and she says the opposite of what she 
means. 

14, male, fourteen years old. Much trouble with what 
was called ''swallowers" if he sat in company. 

15, female, sixteen years old. Face would flush and 
heart palpitate if spoken to by a stranger. 

16, male, seventeen years old. Good speaker. Feels 
flush and faint when he faces an audience. JEvery nerve 
seems to twitch. 

17, female, adult. Often addresses meetings, and presides 
with great dignity. Says it is a great trial. 

18, male, nineteen years old. AVhen talking to a young 
lady, turns bright red, stanmiers, smiles, . . . and 
finally bolts. 

Organic Changes. — It will be admitted, I think, that 
all forms of embarrassment are accompanied by pro- 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 195 

nounced organic changes. Some of these changes, as in 
the case of blushing, pallor, and the like, are noticed by 
the most casual *observer. Others, of course, are more 
hidden, and may be located within the visceral or other 
inner regions of the body. It seems, moreover, that these 
emotions are productive of a sort of pain, or at least an 
unpleasantness, and that there is a corresponding sense 
of unnaturalness or restlessness attending them. The 
physical reactions are both sudden and unpremeditated. 
The embarrassed child is likely to rush into acts that are 
novel to him. His condition is not unlike that of the 
caged animal of which Professor Royce speaks (Outline 
of Ps;/chology, p. 315- f.). His previous habits do not fur- 
nish a mode of relief; and, seeing no familiar avenue of 
escape, he begins a struggle with the environment, which 
results in much new experience. 

Children Differ. — If this theory is a fair one, the util- 
itarian nature of social sensitiveness is easily made out. 
It sets up in the individual the tendency to make new adjust- 
ments — a tendency to struggle more or less blindly, but 
persistently, with the environment — and hereby is rapidly 
secured the foundation knowledge for future conduct. 

Now, it is certainly evident to all that there is a vast 
difference in the amount of social experience of different 
growing children. Compare, for instance, the social life 
of an only child, born and reared in an isolated place in the 
comitry, with that of another, born and bred in a large city, 
and privileged to play daUy in the public street with every 
variety of other children, and having the additional ex- 
perience of every form of greetmg from older people who 
pass. Even supposing there were a thousand comparisons 
instead of one, how vastly different, in every case, the two 



196 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

would behave in the presence of others at any period, say, 
between the ages of five and twenty-five years. 

It is rather singular that in all the works on pedagogy 
and child-development, there is to be found almost nothing 
of a definite nature touching this social sensitiveness. 
Should it be left to chance occasion? Or, is conscious 
oversight possible and advisable? Is there a best time for 
this kind of experience ? And should it be limited in 
amount? Such questions as these might be pertinent here. 

Bashfulness may be Good. — Personally, I believe that 
this sensitiveness to others is not only a powerful stimulus 
to various new forms of conduct, but that in a hundred 
ways it also works itself into the fabric of character; and 
that it should have such exercise as ivill give it a certain de- 
gree of permanence until the character is fully formed. " Sen- 
sitiveness means power. All strength of will and of char- 
acter is developed through the capacity for feeling and for 
discrimination through feeling," says Paul Tyner. Just 
how much exercise this emotion should have is a problem, 
the solution of which will not be attempted here except in 
bare outline. It is very evident that it depends altogether 
on the nature of the child. There really seems to be no 
general rule of exercise in such a case except, perhaps, this 
very vague one: This social sensitiveness should be kept 
•alive and active during the entire period of character de- 
velopment of the individual, to such an extent that, when 
full maturity is reached, it may have shaded off into nu- 
merous little forms of easy, graceful social conduct. 

Too Much Attention Harmful.— It is evident, then, 
that this special kind of experience may be either overdone 
or underdone. Some children reared in the densely pop- 
ulated part of a city become blase before they reach ten 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 197 

years of age. Especially is this true if they are thrown 
daily into the company of older people of every rank and 
character, who &te constantly twitting and teasing them, 
and otherwise drawing them out in conversation. The 
typical hotel child is a good illustration here. So is the 
child whose fond parents consider him precocious, and 
foolishly and repeatedly make a public display of his tal- 
ents. I have carefully kept a record of five such cases as 
the latter, and will give a brief outline of them, as follows : 

1 . Boy, twenty-four years old, was considerably celebrated 
as a "boy orator." Began to "speak pieces" in infancy, 
and to deliver entire, memorized sermons, with the easy 
grace of a Beecher, at eight. Regarded by all as a great 
prodigy. Now a very dull, commonplace citizen, lacking 
in originality and spontaneity. 

2. Boy, twenty years old, dissipated and oblivious to 
social emotions. I^acks ambition .and self-respect. Was 
once the pride of the town because of early manifestations 
of future greatness. Recited in public at four, and was 
tossed and buffeted about by older people to the extent 
that, at nine or ten, social embarrassment was no longer 
experienced. 

3. Girl, now seventeen. Was a beautiful child, and made 
to sing and perform otherwise in public from five on. At 
present, pronounced "listless and comparatively worth- 
less." 

4 and 5. Boys, now twenty and twenty-five. Not much 
unlike 1 and 2, respectively. 

City vs. Country Boy. — It seems reasonable to say 
that all children who pass at one rapid bound through the 
periods of infancy, childhood, and youth, without receiving 
the emotional development that these periods so richly 



198 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

supply, — that such children are doomed to an inexorable 
fate of intellectual mediocrity and general lassitude. In 
mature life the benimibed sensibilities of such an indi- 
vidual may be played upon and slightly affected by the 
environment, but such a thing as his struggling strenu- 
ously and successfully with the more difficult problems of 
life is out of the question. It is stated on good authority 
that practically all the men who, by their unaided efforts, 
achieved eminent success in commercial, political, and 
other occupations, have been recruited from the ranks of 
the boys reared on the farm, or under similar circumstan- 
ces. " The country boy, in the long run, usually gets ahead 
of the city boy," says a great financier. "The life of large 
towns is not favorable to intellectual work. The men who 
have had great influence on their age have been brought up 
in solitude ; and all the great men of England, and even of 
London, were brought up in the country." These are the 
words of Lombroso. 

Now, it seems to me that the defeat of the city- or town- 
bred boy in these undertakings can be attributed largely 
to the unfortmiate conditions in his social environment as 
set forth above. Certain of his emotional experiences die 
an untimely death before he is old enough either to reflect 
intelligently on their meaning, or to imagine adequately 
for himself a better condition for the future. Long after 
his quiescent life has begmi to drag out its prosaic exist- 
ence, his country cousin continues alternately to pass 
through the soul-trying experiences of defeat and embar- 
rassment, and the triumphant experiences of success and 
higher attainment. In the language of another, the latter 
is securing ''adaptations to the environment such as mo- 
mentary conditions imperatively caU for." 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 199 

A Later Period. — Let us pass now to a somewhat 
later period, the earliest years of pubescence, for another 
aspect of this problem. The full period of pubescence com- 
prises the five or ten years immediately following puberty, 
accordmg to Ir^dng Kind, in his Psychology of ChUd De- 
velopment. In a very interesting discussion of the sub- 
ject, this author says: ''It [adolescence] may be charac- 
terized as primarily the time when the youth comes to 
consciousness of the sexual functions, and when the chief 
problem of coordination is that of adjustment to the values 
of the social organism in which he lives, . . . and a 
time of great emotional unstability." A little later, he con- 
tinues : " It seems that, at this time, all the relatively un- 
organized forms of experience are peculiarly open to sug- 
gestion." At this period the whole situation of life takes 
on a new and intensely interesting aspect, especially that 
part of it which has to do with social relations. For the 
first time, perhaps, the youth takes a serious interest in the 
future. On this point Professor Dewey says : 

'' It is a period of tremendous enlargement of the sphere 
of interests. . . . The youth has an entirely new 
point of view from which to consider himself. He feels and 
sees himself with reference to the expanding world about 
him. . . . Socially and emotionally, he feels him- 
self a part of a larger whole." 

It is hardly necessary to say that aU this sudden expan- 
sion of the youth's mental horizon has an organic basis in 
the awakening of the sex instinct. In the normal case, the 
love nature manifests itself in an outgoing .search for a 
response of some kind in one of the opposite sex. There 
is a marked tendency to pair off among such young people ; 
and the self-conscious acts of each, so far as they relate to 



200 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

personal conduct, are thought of as referrmg most partic- 
ularly to the other member of the pair. The emotional 
experiences are strong and frequent. Even the thought of 
the absent loved one is often attended by deep emotion; 
and it is during this reflective period that the j'^outhful lover 
is most actively engaged in making over his own character. 
Specific results are easily seen in the following forms: 

1. The bearing or pose of the body is changed. The 
youth who is in love is likely to stand and walk more erect, 
with chest out and shoulders back. He is aU the time 
more or less conscious of how he looks in the presence of 
others. He also begins to take a neM^ interest in his wear- 
ing-apparel. Considerable time is now spent in brushing 
his clothes and hair and otherwise arranging his toilet. 
Any lack here is sure to add to his flustration and discom- 
fiture in the presence of the other sex. 

2. This youth shows also a decided tendency to improve- 
ment in his language. Instead of the former broken, mon- 
osyllabic mode of expression, he now tries to round out his 
sentences. His thought processes are more rapid and in- 
tense than formerly, and require a larger vehicle of expres- 
sion. 

3. These emotional spe]ls soon show their traces in the 
countenance of the youth. He is conscious of an effort to 
try to draw his facial expression into better form. The 
lower lip is drawn up closer, and other of the features are 
made more expressive of his dominant emotion, until he is 
finally capable of sending those "speechless messages" of 
which the poet writes. 

The Teacher's Opportunity. — Many teachers regard 
the little love affairs of these youngsters as a serious in- 
terference with the progress of education, and try to sup- 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 201 

press them; but the opposite view would be more nearly 
correct. To attempt to crush out this love sentiment is to 
make an assault *upon life itself. Wise direction, rather 
than suppression, is needed here. In fact, when a 3^outh 
first ''falls in love" seriously, he is in ideal condition for 
instruction. Many a boy never looks at the question of 
his education seriously imtil this period arrives. For then 
his thoughts and feelings are not only novel and intense, 
but they come and go in more rapid succession. 

Let us illustrate concretely the teacher's opportunity 
and duty here. For instance, concomitant with the awak- 
ening of the love nature there comes also a new apprecia- 
tion of the beautiful. . Poetry, art, and aesthetic sentiments 
of a general nature are now likely to appeal strongly to the 
yomig life; and, as he eagerly contemplates the meaning 
of it all, it is always luith a more or less distinct reference to 
the one he loves. He is learnmg this verse of poetry for her. 
This bit of fine sentiment is foi' her sake, and the beauties 
of this flower-garden or that piece of architecture are to be 
described to her. It is only necessary for the teacher to 
help make the situation free and easy here, by supplying 
the proper materials, and thereby directing the spontaneous 
growth of the young mind. But how much might well be 
said in condemnation of the teacher who ignorantly tries 
to smother out or otherwise antagonize these beautiful 
young love-dreams, because, forsooth, the young boys and 
girls are pairing off in their love affairs, and because it is a 
"mean thing to have break out in a school anyway." 

The matter of more serious courtship with reference to 
people of more advanced age will be considered now, in 
order to bring out a somewhat different aspect of the sub- 
ject. 



202 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



CHAPTER XIX. 
SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS (Continued). 

Primitive Courtship. — It seems to be instinctive in 
the male to press his suit , vigorously, and in the female 
to show disposition to run away. Among primitive tribes 
of men, the male was expected to secure his mate by the 
most strenuous means, even at the hazard of his life, and 
the female was expected to try just as hard to escape, 
until captured, and then to submit willingly. Such a 
method of courting, in fact, seems to have become an un- 
written law among many of the primitive tribes, and such 
is the method practiced today among certain uncivilized 
peoples. So the sentiment, ''Faint heart never won fair 
lady," pervades the social fabric of the present. As these 
attitudes of the two sexes respectively can be shown to 
have been an aid in the preservation of the species in 
primitive times, so do their modifications serve a useful 
purpose today. 

The Bashful Swain's Experience. — It is said that the 
young woman who forgets how to blush loses one of her 
most valuable charms. I believe that her chances of 
matrimony are much lessened. The various expressions 
of gallantry in men and those of modesty in women serve 
to increase their chances of marriage, and thereby of re- 
producing their kind. Observe, then, e. g., the utilita- 
rian nature of blushing, which cannot be feigned, and 
which is, therefore, a mark of genuine sincerity of feeling. 
I believe that the union of bashful young .ouples is hastened 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 203 

on account of the very fact that their embari'assment gives 
mutual impressions of sincere regard, while the dissimula- 
tions of the "higMy cultured" pair tend to the opposite 
effect, on account of mutual impressions of insincerity. 

In the first place, fear is a powerful emotional stimulant, 
as are its refined modifications, — bashfulness, timidity, 
and the like. The young man who feels timidity or em- 
barrassment is likely to act with corresponding force and 
effectiveness. His movements may be paralyzed tempo- 
rarily, but, if so, there will be a reaction later that will 
deepen his reflective experiences and lead him to do some- 
thing decisive. "The effect of emotion upon the train of 
ideas," says Wundt,- "is accurately reflected in external 
movement. . . . The excitant emotion quickens 
ideation and involves heightened mimistic and panto- 
mimic movement." 

The isolated country j^outh is late in his social develop- 
ment, but this very fact may prove advantageous to him. 
When he comes into the social gathering, say a party once 
a fortnight, he is green and awkward. Emotions stir his 
soul to the very depths. He stumbles and falters and 
blushes and perspires. The period of childish embarrass- 
ment has lingered so long with him that nothing short of a 
long-continued, soul-stirring experience will subdue this 
emotion and turn it to his better account. He is not only 
temporarily wrought up, but he also lives the experience 
over in memory during the subsequent hours of isolation, and 
meanwhile he experiences "deep yearnings for the un- 
attainable," and forms many secret resolutions that make 
for better character and nobler worth. Here is the battle- 
ground of his most telling victories for the future. He 



204 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

"fights many an inner fight," and goes to the next social 
gathering with renewed confidence, but perhaps to suffer 
only a less degree of agony. 

It is needless to say that during all this time, both in 
society and out, this typical swain experiences vigorous 
exercise of many of the bodily functions. The blood 
flows faster, the heart beats quicker, there being occasional 
palpitations, and other of the life processes are accelerated. 
" During the emotion of sexual love the circulation is ac- 
celerated, sometimes to an extreme degree, the respiration 
likewise; and they react on the organic function." 

The Blase Youth Again. — But what of the blase 
youth? The noises in the street, the runnings to and fro, 
the multitude of human gazes, both strange and familiar, 
have played on his tender sensibilities till he is no longer 
emotionally responsive. Nothing short of a high-keyed 
orchestra playing ''rag-time," or a dazzling circus pro- 
cession, or a brilliant pyrotechnic display, will ever touch 
him again. It is most lamentable, but he has lost his 
various modes of social sensitiveness, — real virtues that 
ought to have stayed with him till the reflective period was 
reached, in order to regenerate and refine his thinking. 

Meaning of Reflection Here. — Having now touched 
upon the origin and practical value of certain forms of 
social sensitiveness, let us examine at closer range some 
phases of the struggle of the "youth of greener sort" to 
overcome these manifestations. What I desire to empha- 
size more fully here is a fact that has been too much in 
the background heretofore; namely, the great value, in 
character-building, of this sensitiveness to the individual 
who is in what might be called the later formative period 
of character, — provided these various modes of emotional 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 205 

experience have been preserved to him to that time. All 
such emotions and the reflective experiences that follow 
greatly enrich th^ mental life of the individual, and spur 
him on to attempt to reach a more satisfying adjustment 
to his social environment. 

Getting a Better Image or Ideal. — While all forms of 
emotional response to other presences are no doubt accom- 
panied by a good deal of self-consciousness, I believe that 
the reflective period that follows is one of much greater 
consequence to the individual. During the emotional 
attack, sober initiative is, of course, out of the question. 
But when one holds this post-emotional experience up 
before his calmer judgment, in memory, the true situation 
is more clearly seen, and readjustments for another such 
occasion are made out. Now, if the individual is able 
at this point persistently to imagine himself in a more 
ideal relation to that formerly embarrassing situation, he 
is m the beginnings of what I call one of the most fruit- 
ful forms of autosuggestion. Right here is accomplished 
a great work upon his character. A concrete illustration 
will make this clearer. 

Suppose an extremely bashful yoimg man at a party, 
suddenly thrown into the company of a young woman 
who, to him, has a ''peculiar presence." At once there 
are terrible surgings to and fro of his life-blood. Palpi- 
tations and stoppages of that storm center, the heart, 
alternate. He is hot and cold by turns, and shortly after- 
wards carries himself off the scene limp as a reed, and 
bathed in a cold perspiration. During the second sober 
thought that follows his recovery, this verdant youth 
fights many a fearful foe within his own breast; and, if 
he is going to be saved at all, wins in imagination as many 



206 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

victories. These ideal responses, thought out and re- 
peatedly gone over in mind during this interval, are cer- 
tain to be actualized in some degree, at the very first 
opportunity. Thus the young man learns to "spark" 
while alone, similarly as one, according to James, ''learns 
to skate in summer and to swim in winter." Thus to 
subdue the embarrassment by degrees is to refine the ex- 
pression of the emotion, which really lives on and serves 
its purpose. 

The experience of beginning business is analogous to 
this, in the case of many a young man. Some years ago 
I watched a case of this kind through all the stages of its 
progress. This young man was trying to establish an 
agency, and was lacking in both tact and ''nerve." His 
emotional experiences were both deep and strong, and his 
afterthought correspondingly intense. He made many 
attacks and retreats before any promise of success came. 
I gave him some mild suggestions at first, and later helped 
him to image himself to better advantage in the trying 
situation. Still later he was given a more definite lesson 
in autosuggestion, and I had the pleasure of witnessing 
his increasing success during a period of a half-year. 

Differences in Personalities. — There is a marked dif- 
ference in personalities. Even a little child will give evi- 
dence of this fact by his various methods of approaching 
strangers. While some attract him and win his confidence 
at once, others repel him. Some people seem to carry 
a sort of psychic atmosphere with them that impinges upon 
one's nervous organism. Go into an "august presence" 
and immediately you feel as if you had a "hangdog ap- 
pearance." The lower lip falls, the throat becomes dry, 
and your utterances are labored and more or less inco- 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 207 

herent. The other fellow has you at his mercy, and you 
both know it. Again, you meet a person of weaker per- 
sonality, and the* effect is exactly reversed.. As he grows 
weaker and less positive, you become stronger and more 
fluent; and sometimes you almost feel keen pleasure in 
the punishment you are giving him. At another time 
you meet one who is on your own psychic level, and there 
is, perhaps, a struggle for the mastery, with the victory 
alternating. On still another occasion you come into the 
presence of one between whose personality and yours there 
seems to be no conflict. You are both at ease. 

Some persons may never experience this form of the 
sense of other selves in any pronounced way, but I believe 
that in the end such experience is of positive advantage 
to the individual, for reasons given above, and for others. 
It may come in the presence of one or of many, in the 
drawing-room, the lecture-room, or in the form of stage- 
fright. In the ideal case, this emotional experience be- 
. comes a sort of refined habit, and it initiates a struggle 
within that leads to higher attainment and better and 
more forceful forms of expressions. 

Aids to Higher Culture. — What are some of the aids 
in this struggle for higher existence ? 

(1) A merely mechanical one is appropriate wearing- 
apparel. That is, the subject must not feel that his per- 
sonal appearance draws out any adverse criticism. (2) A 
clear conscience. The guilty conscience feels that its con- 
dition is revealed, and the psychic power is therefore 
lessened. (3) Rational self-confidence; and herein is im- 
plied practically the whole story. As the first and second 
points are simple and relatively unimportant, I will pass 
at once to the third. Of course it is only necessary to say 



208 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



that imitation is an element in all this readjustment. It 
is implied in all I have said about imaging the better situa- 
tion. The one who simply images himself persistently as 
overcoming his sensitiveness, is practicing what I call un- 
conscious autosuggestion. Conscious autosuggestion con- 
sists in the same thing, plus the knowledge of the nature 
and value of the process. Let us see how the matter op- 
erates, even though some things said in the chapter on 
Self-Gonfidence may be repeated. 

Of course, it is not reasonable to maintain that simply 
imaging an act once will necessarily bring about its per- 
formance, although there is perhaps always a tendency to 
that effect. It is the persistent repetition of the image that 
counts for most here. The whole social world today is 
more or less under the influence of suggestion, and the 
greatest factor in it all is the modern newspaper. In every 
item of sensational news, and every advertisement, if prop- 
erly written, there is a strong suggestion to act. According 
as their natures and education may direct, many people 
take up these suggestions unconsciously and repeat them 
mentally many times, until the situation or act suggested 
becomes intimate and personal. Thus the suggestion be- 
comes aittosuggestion, and the tendency to act accordingly 
is made altogether more pronounced. 

The imagination is not creative, but inventive and con- 
structive. The individual who is stirred emotionally ex- 
periences a fuller flow of ideas as to how to act, and that 
form of activity which appears under the circumstances 
to be most satisfactory is the one of which the image is 
most likely to persist. The longer and more frequently 
this image is entertained, the more likely it is to function 
in action. If I am stirred emotionally by some embar- 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 209 

passing situation, and finally frame in imagination an act 
that will relieve and atone for this embarrassment, I imme- 
diately become foad of this new image. It is entertaining 
and deeply satisfying, and I entertain it again and again. 
Now while this act is repeatedly taking place in fancy it is 
being prepared for expression in fact. For the organism 
is concomitantly undergoing many of the processes that 
'this act requires. Muscles, limbs and vocal organs feel 
impelled to perform their respective parts of the act. I see 
myself in the appropriate bodily attitude, hear myself 
uttering the right words, and feel within semblances of 
the necessary organic experiences. 

Organic Aspects.— Laboratory tests show that the or- 
ganism responds appropriately to the act, in the case of 
any intense imagination. The pulse-beat is changed, the 
blood distribution is modified, and the muscular tension 
is suitably readjusted. So far as the psychology of the act 
is concerned, it is already performed. Unless some strong 
counteracting influence is set up, the outward expression 
naturally follows upon the presentation of the appropriate 
situation. The organism has become in -large measure 
habituated to the new act through the repeated process 
of imagination. When one is embarrassed, the conduct 
tends to follow the course of the deeply ingrained habit. 
This imaging process, then, is really the preparation of a 
new habit to mhibit and take the place of the old one. 
Backed up by emotional interest, as it is, this new habit 
gets the advantage, and in time becomes stronger and 
more natural than the old one, when it msij be left to per- 
petuate itself and to develop itself, through actual ex- 
perience, into better form. Thus the organism takes on 
and develops many of the most significant acts of life. 

—14 



210 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

Post- Suggestion. — It is a well-authenticated fact that 
many persons are able to awake at an unusual hour in the 
morning, provided they determine to do so before falling 
asleep the previous evening. Undoubtedly the nervous 
mechanism is given in some way a ''set/' so that it sounds 
the alarm at the proper moment. It has been pretty well 
demonstrated that, "by taking thought" before going to 
sleep, one can prevent the occurrence of a disturbing dream' 
that has been a regular nightly visitor. These are both 
merely forms of what has been called post-suggestion ; i. e., 
suggestions to be worked out in later processes. If these 
two forms are possible, why not others ? If one can arouse 
himself from sleep at a certain time by post-suggestion, 
why can't he arouse his intellect to the solution of other 
scientific problems in the same manner? I have proved 
to my own satisfaction that he can. 

If, for instance, a high-school graduate has, say, to de- 
liver a commencement oration and has forebodings of fail- 
ure on account of stage-fright, he can, most likely, prevent 
such a calamity by conscious autosuggestion. While per- 
sistently imaging himself as succeeding most admirably, he 
must continue to affirm within himself about as follows: 
"I ivill succeed! I cannot fail! I shall be strong and 
self-possessed and dear-minded!'' He must continue this 
procedure until all thought of failure has vanished and the 
thought of success has completely possessed him. The 
remainder is both eas}^ and natural. ''As he thinketh, 
so is he." His success is practically assured. Titchener 
says : " Fix the attention steadily and intently upon some 
idea of bodily movement, and the impulse to do the act 
grows stronger and stronger until finally you can overcome 
it only by an effort." 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 211 

Physical Changes. — As the result of the mental and 
emotional experience related in the last paragraph above^ 
a corresponding change will have taken place in the phys- 
ical conditions. Instead of pains and quiverings in the re- 
gion of the solar plexus, the fluttering, enfeebled heart-beat, 
and the other various constrictions of nerve and muscle 
(all of which likely accompanied the fear of failure), there 
is now an opposite condition in the life processes. The 
heart beats with vigor, the blood flows freely to the parts, 
and the inteUect is clear and keen. In short, there is a 
full sense of masterfulness that is at once a joy and an in- 
spiration to its possessor. 

This one case illustrates the method in them aU, whether 
in social life or in business. This work cannot be accom- 
plished at one trial or in a clay, but it must become more 
and more a rule of practice, — a habit of life. The sensitive 
young person who becomes adept m this mode of proced- 
ure, becomes day by clay more enabled to create the world 
anew to his own liking. 

James, in this chapter on the Will, also says much that 
is in harmony with this sentiment. But he does not call 
it imaging, which it really is. 

A Negative Aspect. — But I am aware that there is a 
negative aspect to this whole subject. For a time at least, 
after the individual first experiences the sensitiveness, 
there is often an effect that resembles temporary paralysis. 
In aU such cases, it would seem at first glance that the re- 
sult is anything but beneficial. We will now examine 
some of these cases more closely. 

1. Under influence of great fear, the organism sometimes 
coUapses.* Indeed, there are on record cases of some an- 

* " In fear the skin is pale, the breathing shallow and hurried, the pulse weak 
and irregular, and the muscular strength diminished." (Tichener, Outline of 
Psychology, p. 235.) 



212 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHERjLIFE. 

imals, and even of some people, dying from sheer fright. 
These are not, however, cases of fear of people, but fear of 
things. By introspection and by analogy we can judge, 
however, that fear of persons may have a paralyzing effect 
in the case of timid children. 

2. We are better acquainted with the depression of 
spirits, so called, that sometimes follows adverse criticism, 
or an affront of some other personal nature. There is a 
sense of weight about the heart, the circulation seems slug- 
gish, and the thought processes are retarded. Titchener, 
in his Experimental Psychology, shows that under all or- 
dinary circumstances of impleasantness, the physical 
strength is reduced. We all know, too, that under stress 
of embarrassment, one's normal mental operations are con- 
fused.* One's normal physical acts are inhibited also. 
I am reminded here of the story of the young man who 
intended to ask a certain young woman for her company, 
but who "got the blamed trembles so bad he couldn't ask 
her." Many school children, and even some college stu- 
dents, suffer so acutely from timidity that they cannot 
recite, at least not creditably. Such instances are common. 
Two cases of this kind have received my personal attention. 
The first was a little seven-year-old school-girl, C.H., who, 
on account of timidity, could not be induced to recite or say 
a word during the class exercises, for a term of three months. 
The second, F.J.H., was a yoimg freshman college stu- 
dent who came to me three times and asked to be hypno- 
tized as a treatment for tunidity. His was an extreme 
case. When called upon to recite he would usually stand 
and tremble, and, after a faltering effort, drop into his 
seat in a state of collapse. 

* Darwin, Expression of Emotions, etc.. p. 323: " Most people wtule blushing 
have their mental powers disturbed." 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 213 

3. The sting of defeat in the case of school children and 
others, when they fail in intellectual contests, has the same 
physically depressing effect as described under number 2 
above, which is enough alone to place the ordinary school 
contest under condemnation. The defeated child is likely 
to lose something of his power of initiative, and he will 
likely formulate permanent mental images of himself in 
defeat, and thus retard his own progress. No child is very 
likely to rise above his dominant idea of himself. Not 
long ago the writer gave an address as the closing number 
of an all-day program which was made up mostly of con- 
tests. Many districts in the country sent one or more rep- 
resentatives to contest for the prizes in arithmetic, dec- 
lamation, singing, and the like. The battle raged all day, 
and was exciting. All the ordinary rules of order and de- 
corum were violated, as the relatives and other admirers 
of the contestants crowded around and "sicked 'em on," 
while the poor little creatures worked despairingly. Quar- 
rels and sharp charges of unfairness were not infrequent in 
the audience. Fourteen months later I met the father of 
one of the vanquished, and he was stiU full of spite as he 
related how they "cheated his thirteen-year-old daughter 
out of the prize." The latter has quit school as a result. 

4. It is evident that there can be too little exercise of 
social sensitiveness during the growing period. Accord- 
ing to the theory of this paper, this embarrassment ought 
to be gradually worn off, until, at maturity, it disappears 
in form of refined modification. (See ch. XVIII.) We see 
many instances of this under-development in people around 
us. Such people proceed with fear and trembling in an 
ordinary social gathering, and experience intense stage- 
fright whenever they try to perform in public. Unless 



214 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 



these embarrassing emotions are gradually subdued by 
practice that is well-nigh enforced, the inhibitory pro- 
cesses will in time gain complete mastery, and action will 
become practically out of the question. 

To make this point clearer, a concrete situation will be 
described. Suppose a general meeting be called to con- 
sider matters regarding civic improvement, and that some 
familiar subject is proposed for general discussion. Only 
a few of those present will speak.' Many others, who 
scarcely dare to stand in their places on accoimt of timidity, 
will work out in their minds the wording of a few remarks, 
and will experience various painful organic disturbances, 
such as tremor, palpitation, agitated respiration, etc., wind- 
ing up with a cold perspiration, and a feeling of being glued 
to the seat. People in such condition, whether old or 
young, are at the "danger point," and nothing short of 
violence will ever restore their expiring volitions. As 
time goes on, the impulse to act becomes less pronounced 
and the emotion less violent, till finally the individual lapses 
into a state of ''innocuous desuetude" and becomes merely 
a quiet witness of the proceedings. 

It seems to me that the duty of the teacher is very 
clearly implied here, viz., so to direct the exercises that 
the child may have a reasonable amount of practice in 
active response in the various embarrassing situations. 
The volitions must be exercised sufficiently to overcome 
the inhibitions if development is to take place rightly. 
These inhibitions are like temptations — better present 
than absent, if overcome, as they add force to the char- 
acter and emphasis to the conduct. 

A Final Word and a Summary. — My final word here 
is, that in all these negative cases there is present the 



SOCIAL SENSITIVENESS. 215 

beginning of the usual impulse or tendency to novel and 
intensified forms of action, but the inhibiting process 
simply gains thd* mastery, and this condition of affairs 
in time becomes habitual. Relative to such situations, 
Professor James says: ''One liability of such arcs is to 
have their activity inhibited by other processes going on 
at the same time. It makes no difference whether the 
arc be organized at birth, or ripen spontaneously later, 
. it must take its chance with all the other arcs, 
and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail, in drafting 
off the currents through itself." 

To summarize briefly, I have tried to reach the follow- 
ing conclusions : 

1. Social sensitiveness, in the case of children, is likely 
to initiate many new forms of physical movement out of 
which there are developed various new adaptations. It 
is an irreparable loss for children to become blase. 

2. In the case of youths, this sensitiveness is the oc- 
casion of much reflection, during the process of which the 
individual works out in imagination many new forms of 
better response for the future. 

3. The sensitive emotions that accompany the pubes- 
cent period are especially stirring, and they are certain 
to initiate many new ejfforts in behalf of a better personal 
appearance. 

4. This sensitiveness is an essential condition of normal 
development of character, and it should be present in 
some form during the entire formative period. 

5. There are certain morbid aspects of this question, 
i. e., negative ones, in cases of which the inhibitory pro- 
cess somehow gets the upper hand and becomes habitual. 



216 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

REFERENCES. 

Baldwin, — Mental Development in the Child and the Race. Social 
and Ethical Interpretations. 

Darwin, — Expression of Emotion in Men and Animals. 

Dewey,— Mental Development (pamphlet). 

Preyer, — Senses and Will. 

Shinn, — Biography of a Baby. 

Titchener, — Outline of Psychology; Experimental Psychology. 

Spencer, — Principles of Psychology, Vol. I. 

Royce, — Outlines of Psychology. 

Hall and Smith, — Pedagogical Seminary, Vol. 10, No. 2. 

Lombroso,— The Man of Genius. 

King, — Psychology of Child Development. 

Hutchinson, — Love as a Factor in Evolution, Monist, Vol. 8. 

James, — Principles of Psychology, Vols. 1 and 2. 

Wundt, — -Human and Animal Psychology. 

Ribot, — Psychology of the Emotions. 

Marden, — Success, April, 1904. 

Sidis, — Psychology of Suggestion. 

McKeever, — Meaning of Error in Education, Teachers' World 
March, 1904. 

Tyner, — Pain — Its Cause and Cure. 



THE HIGHER LIFE. 217 



CHAPTER XX. 
THE HIGHER LIFE. 

There is so much being written and said of late in refer- 
ence to purer thinking and higher living, and the like, that 
it is considered worth while, in this closing chapter, to 
devote a few pages to a discussion of these matters. First : 

Is there a Higher Life? — If you should compare the 
mental life of such a man as the late Phillips Brooks with 
that of a common tramp or vagabond, you would doubt- 
less say at once that the former is the much higher type 
of life. There is certainly a vast difference between these 
two types of consciousness. If it were possible to exam- 
ine the entire record of the thoughts of two such men 
during an average day of their lives, there would doubt- 
less be some interesting revelations. First, it would seem 
that the vagrant's thoughts would not compare with those 
of the philanthropist in richness, depth, and variety of 
ideas. Second, they would differ radically in the nature of 
their ideas. The vagrant's thinking would be concerned 
almost wholly with acts that would satisfy his baser 
animal nature, and with schemes for obtaining something 
without earning it. Being without self-respect, he could 
of course have no love for either God or his fellow-men. 

On the other hand, we could reasonably suppose that 
the philanthropist's thoughts would dwell much upon 
matters pertaining to the well-being of the race. He 
would naturally be much interested in various means of 
relieving want and distress, and of uplifting mankind 



218 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

generally. Such thoughts, if entertained habitually, would 
naturally lead to deeds of a similar nature, and to an 
affectionate regard for the welfare of men. The reader 
will doubtless agree that in these two cases, one mode of 
life is much higher and better than the other. 

As to Ordinary Persons. — ^But these are two very ex- 
treme cases. What shall we say of the average one? Is 
there possible a higher type of consciousness toward which 
the person of average intelligence may and can direct his 
attention? Before entering into a discussion of this mat- 
ter, let me remind the reader that this book has all along 
adopted the selective aspect theory of consciousness. This 
theory maintains that it is possible at nearly all times to 
choose from the many available objects of attention those 
that will bring about a certain preconceived order of things, 
and that the limits to which one may direct his thoughts 
in a given way are fixed only b)^ past experience and 
memory. With this theory in view, and at the risk of 
being tedious on account of some possible repetitions, I 
shall try to describe what might be called a higher type 
of consciousness. 

A Growth. — If the selective -aspect theory of con- 
sciousness is accepted, it is fair to assume that one by 
means of this process of selective attention gradually ac- 
quires more spiritual habits of thought. He might rea- 
sonably ask himself some such questions as : " What type 
of consciousness seems to secure the most out of life? 
Wliat kind of thinking is contributive to the best physical 
health, the longest life, and the greatest amoimt of perma- 
nent satisfaction? 'WTiat kinds of experience called pleas- 
urable are at the expense of impaired health, shortened 
life, and future misery? 



THE HIGHER LIFE. 219 

Mental Attitudes. — In trying to answer these ques- 
tions for himself, one might be conceived of as arriving 
in time at a nurrfber of relatively fixed attitudes of mind 
toward such matters as knowledge, work, recreation, wealth, 
other people, religion, and the future life. 

Wliat knowledge is of the most worth, and, consequently, 
to be striven after? Herbert Spencer has tried to show 
that knowledge of sciences is all-important. This view 
seems one-sided, as it does not do justice to the arts and 
crafts. It is useless to try to answer this question in 
specific terms, but it is strongly urged here that the young 
student can best prepare himself for a useful life by tak- 
ing (1) a broad general course, (2) a special course. The 
general course should include a minimum of two foreign 
languages (one ancient and one modern), all the sciences 
taught in a first-class high school, and manual training 
or industrial work of considerable variet}' throughout the 
entire period. The special course should then be entered 
upon and made intensive, and should fully prepare one 
for his chosen calling. Lack of patience and thoroughness 
are two of the most common weaknesses observed here. 

Regard for Work. — The one who reaches the higher 
type of consciousness not only sees the ennobhng quality 
of all honest work, but he is also himself a willing worker 
in some kind of field. It matters little as to the name of 
the vocation, just so it admits of honest effort and en- 
genders self-respect. The saying that trickery, cheating 
and other forms of unfair dealing are necessary to business 
success, cannot be made good. The world is full of oppor- 
tunities for successful business enterprise through fair 
means. 

The work of any calling is made pleasurable and inspir- 



220 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

ing if it leads to the accumulation of something in the 
nature of material wealth. It is only the acquisition of 
wealth for wealth's sake and for other base purposes that 
makes it ignoble. The man who believes in and practices 
the higher life herein described is not necessarily less in- 
dustrious or less ambitious to acquire wealth. His am- 
bition and energy are merely transformed and turned to- 
ward the realization of higher ideals. 

Regard for Others. — A cheerful, optimistic view of 
human character is a necessary element of this higher 
consciousness which we are describing. To have a habit 
of ignoring the foibles and of magnifying by word and 
act the good points of character in others, is a most desir- 
able and valuable asset. To be able to find a spark of 
divinity in the so-called base character is a means of ex- 
alting one's divine nature. If one will try to regard even 
the most benighted of human creatures not merely as an 
animal possessing mental powers but as a spiritual being 
struggling feebly toward the light, he wiU certainly thereby 
render his own sympathies more active and his judgments 
of men less harsh. He will more nearly realize the mean- 
ing of the common brotherhood of man, of which the poet 
speaks. 

The Spiritual Life. — Every one who is interested in a 
higher mode of living must of necessity develop his spirit- 
ual nature. It would be injudicious to suggest any re- 
ligious creed here, excepting, perhaps, such as could be 
indorsed by all those who believe in a Supreme Kuler of 
the Universe and who have a common interest in develop- 
ing the sublimest and noblest qualities in human char- 
acter. Nothing herein suggested is intended to be offered 



THElHIGHEB LIFE. 221 

as a substitute for anyone's religious belief, but rather as 
a supplement to it. 

Let those who believe in a Supreme Being call him what- 
ever suits them best. God, Jehovah, The Omnipotent, 
Divine Mind, The Heavenly Father, — any such term will 
do. The essential thing is that in connection with one's 
ordinaiy affairs, there be formed a habit of spending a 
few moments daily in some kind of communication with 
this Being. The mamier must be of one's o^ti choosing. 
By coming habitually into close, spiritual union with this 
power one may render himself more susceptible to good 
influences both human and divine. This sense of a Divine 
Presence, if realized . deeply, wiU become a potent factor 
in one's experience. 

Such a religious nature as is here contemplated ought 
to be characterized further by the fullest tolerance of the 
religious beliefs of others, criticising them, if at aU, only 
in a kindly and affectionate manner. This world is made 
more interesting by virtue of the fact that there is a great 
variety of opinion among people. It would be very duU 
and uninteresting, indeed, if aU were finally brought to 
one fixed belief with reference to any great question. 
Such a condition would really mean, stagnation, or death. 
The statement cannot be made too emphatic, therefore, 
that the religious question must, because of its verj^ na- 
ture, forever remain open and unsettled. If this state- 
ment is true, it is also true that the religious views of even 
the most intelligent man living must be only partial and 
fragmentary. 

A Plea for Fairness. — Is it not entu-ely fair, then, to 
say that the various religious beliefs may be so many as- 
pects of the same great spiritual truth, which is ever 



222 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

working itself out in the lives of men? Is it not also 
fair to suggest, in view of these seeming facts, that the 
only reasonable course of activity, as regards religious 
beliefs, is to hve and let live? Or, if one must try to 
supplant another's religious faith with his own, would it 
not be well to proceed to the effort with loving exhor- 
tation rather than bitter denunciation? It seems almost 
incredible, but yet it is often true, that a man of average 
intelligence, possessing religious views of his own, should 
denounce as ''fools" and ''dupes" a large body of other 
people, also of average intelligence, simply because the 
latter are adherents of a religious faith different from his 
own. 

Man is by nature a religious creature. It appears to 
be just as natural for him to have spiritual cravings as it 
does for him to desire food and drink. None of these 
desires can be permanently satisfied, and each calls for 
a kind of supply peculiar to its nature. It would be ab- 
surd for me to pretend to know better than you do what 
food you crave, although I might in kindness tell the kind 
that is most suitable for me, and why. The same kind 
of attitude might be assumed by me toward your spiritual 
sustenance. 

The Great Fact. — The author has been trying to dis- 
cover what there is peculiar and yet habitual in the ex- 
perience of those persons who seem to find such comfort 
in what they are pleased to call the higher spiritual life. 
He has found that in addition to many of the qualities 
of mind already mentioned, the usual case is of a person 
who has had practically eliminated every form of fear 
from his life. And in nearly every instance there is 
another matter of even greater significance, namely, a 



THE HIGHER LIFE. 223 

peculiar way of habitually realizing the influence of the 
Supreme Being believed in. No doubt the reader will be 
interested here in takmg note of some of the terms used 
to designate this peculiar experience. Several, which have 
been gathered from various quarters, will be given. 

A good, innocent, illiterate old negro said that there 
was always "a kind of sin gin' in his soul." A refined 
woman, who had evidently had much in the nature of 
annoj^ance to overcome early in life, termed it "a mes- 
sage of sweet peace." Not a few maintain that they 
hear "a, still small voice." Another calls it a ''Divine 
Presence within and without." A careful student of 
things spiritual characterizes this condition as "a feeling 
of complete At-one-ment with the Divine." It was a 
skilled musician who described this peculiar presence as 
a "sublime symphony," while a beautiful-spirited elderly 
woman was ''constantly borne up by the Everlasting 
Arms." Still others expressed it as "a great flood of 
spiritual light," "a sense of being in tune with the In- 
finite," "a sense of being transformed," and the like. 

The Significant Point. — Now the point to be urged 
here is this: Even if it be admitted that the type of ex- 
perience just described is in every way a pure halluci- 
nation, there can be no denying the fact that every such 
experience constitutes a predominating factor in the life 
of the person concerned. If one who has long been buf- 
feted and tossed about in pam has at last become soothed 
and sustained by "a message of sweet peace;" and if 
one who has long been bearing a heavy burden up life's 
steep incline feels himself at last "borne up by the Ever- 
lasting Arms;" and if another, who, having lost his way. 



224 PSYCHOLOGY AND HIGHER LIFE. 

seemed for many years to be groping about in darkness 
and despair, "heard a still small voice saying, 'Arise and 
shine, for thy Light is come;'" and if still another, who 
has been bitterly hating and persistently persecuting those 
who happened to dissent from his religious creed, sud- 
denly becomes transformed and pours out the remainder 
of a long life in deeds of sacrifice because he "heard a 
Great Voice out of Heaven;" — if these experiences ac- 
tually occur, and one's life is actually made more deeply 
satisfying both to himself and others by them, does it 
make much difference whether we call them hallucinations 
or something else? The fact remains that such experi- 
ences are seemingly natural, and that they may he the 
means of reaching a higher mode of life. 

Recapitulation. — To see the goodness in other people, 
and to help them to find it in themselves; to be tolerant 
of the opinions of others, giving them credit whenever 
possible for sincerity of purpose; to be frank and open- 
hearted and honest in my dealings with others, showing 
a willingness to accord even a competitor a fair oppor- 
tunity in the race of life; to deal fairly and affectionately^ 
with those who are in any sense criminal in their acts or 
tendencies, and to rebuke and criticise only in love; to 
respect and care for my body as a fit temple of the soul 
by temperance in eating and drinking, and to work hard 
enough to appreciate rest and recreation ; to refuse utterly 
to worry unnecessarily about anything, but to strive at 
all times to entertain only pure and ennobling thoughts; 
to get good and to give good everywhere, making 
somebody glad of my presence; — these are some of the 
affirmations that might profitably be made by those who 



THE HIGHER LIFE. 225 

are interested in a more spiritual type of consciousness. 
Finally — 

Tb see the beauteous world, 
To breathe the fragrant air, 
To hear accordant sounds, 
To feel, to be, — 

This is not lifel 
There is a larger view. 
There is a deeper breath, 
There is a finer touch. 
And a diviner sound. 
Than sense can e'er reveal. 
To see the glory in the Infinite, 
To feel the breath of the Almighty, 
To hear the voice of the I Am, — 

This is to live. 



REFERENCES. 



Henderson, — Education and the Higher Life, Ch. Ill, "The Source 
of Power." 

Black,— The Practice of Self-Culture. Ch. IX, "Culture of Spirit." 

Griggs, — ^The New Humanism, Ch. X, "The Religion of Human- 
ity." 

Dresser,— The Voices of Hope, Ch. IX, "The Spiritual Life." 

Everett, — The Psychological Elements of Religious Faith, Ch. 
XII, "The Supernatural Character of Beauty." 

Coe,— The Religion of a Mature Mind, Ch. VI, "The Chief End of 
Man." 

Adler, — Life and Destiny, Chapter on "The Higher Life." 



—15 



APPENDIX. 



REVELATIONS OF SCIENCE. 

Modern science is doing much to trace out the connec- 
tions between neural activity and consciousness. In an 
effort to accomplish this purpose, three kinds of evidence 
have been brought out, namely : pathological, anatomical, 
and physiological. 

Injuries to various parts of the nervous system, es- 
pecially the brain-cortex, have been brought to the atten- 
tion of physicians and other specialists, and the neural 
effects noted. For instance, a soldier receives a bullet- 
wound in the occipital lobe of the brain and is immedi- 
ately rendered wholly or partially blind. In this case 
the evidence is fairly conclusive that the center for sight 
lies in the region of the brain which was struck. If the 
lesion in the occipital lobe is such as to cause complete 
blindness, all memory of things seen is also obliterated. 
A person so injured can form no visual images whatever. 
An injury in the upper left side of the brain (in the case 
of right-handed people) often causes inability to under- 
stand what is heard. So the destruction of other centers 
causes the loss of other functions. 

The second kind of evidence of scientific mind-body con- 
nections is obtained, for example, by means of autopsies. 
By cutting into the brain of a diseased person who has long 
been deaf, dumb or blind, or partially paralyzed, the 
scientist finds the nerve structure of a peculiar nature. 
The center, which, on account of the particular ailment, 

(229) 



230 APPENDIX. 

has not been used, is always found to be shriveled up, — 
atrophied. On the other hand, unusual ability in the 
performance of any function is attended- by an unusual 
development of the corresponding brain-center. 

By. means of vivisections upon lower animals a further 
line of evidence leading to the same conclusion is deduced. 
Frogs, rabbits, monkeys, and various other animals are 
made martyrs to the cause of science. By means of 
electrical stimulations upon different portions of the mon- 
key's brain, artificial bodily movements are brought about. 
The close resemblance between the brain-structures of 
men and monkeys warrants the assumption that their 
brain-functions are also similar. Actual comparisons, so 
far as they have been possible, have proven this assump- 
tion true. 

Definite Neural Tracts.— Under ordinary stimulation 
the excitation seems to pass over well-defined neural 
tracts. Dr. Paul Carus, in his Soul of Man, quoting from 
Professor Exner in Hermann's Physiology says: 

"If a man gives an appropriate answer to a question, 
the following things must take place : 

" (1) He must hear the words spoken. 

" (2) These words must awaken in him the ideas that 
belong to them. 

" (3) From the mental operation conducted with the 
help of these ideas, a resultant product must issue. 

" (4) This product must be clothed in words. 

" (5) The central innervation necessary to the utter- 
ance of these words must be thought about. And finally, 

" (6) These innervations must arrive at the proper 
muscles in their proper order and intensity." 

The Neural Elements. — "The nervous system," says 



APPENDIX. 231 



Professor Angell, "is made up of nerve-cells, with their 
filamentous elongations which are called fibers. 
They are accumuiations of granular protoplasmic masses 
containing a nucleus, and often within the nucleus smaller 
nucleoli; while from their edges are given off filaments 
of various forms and sizes. These filaments are out- 
growths of the cell-body. The whole structure, includ- 
ing both fiber and cell-body, is called a neurone. The 
neurone is therefore the real element of the nervous sys- 
tem." The number of these neurones in the nervous sys- 
tem of the average adult is estimated at 3000 millions or 
more, and they are in constant process of development. 



232 



APPENDIX. 




Fig. 1. Isolated body of a large cell from the ventral horn of the spinal cord 
of man. Multiplied 200 diameters. (Donaldson, after Obersteiner.) A., a,xone 
(each ceU has but one) ; D., dendrites; iV., nucleus with inclosures; P., pigment 
spot. 



APPENDIX. 



233 




Fig. 2. Scheme of retinal fibers. (James, after Kuss.) Nop., optic nerve; 
S., Schlerotic; ch., clioroid; R., retina; P., papilla (blind spot where no retinal 
structure is found); fovea (point at which the clearest image is focused); V ., 
rod-and-cone structure of the retina, highly magnified. 



234 



APPENDIX. 



L.T. F. 






y' 


"*■= 


y' 






^ ^ 


y 


^ , 


• 


>» 




N 












. I 








V 


.^ 


^■%^- 



R.N/r 




L.O.S. 



L.O.D. 



Fig. 3. Scheme of the mechanism of vision. (James, after Sequin.) The 
cuncus convolution (Cu.) of the right occipital lohe is supposed to be injured, 
and all the parts which lead to it are darkly shaded to show that they fail to 
perform their function. F. O., the intra-hemispheric optical fibers. P. O. C. 
is the region of the lower optic centers. T. O. D. is the right optic tract; C, 
the clilasma; F. L. D., fibers going to the internal or temporal half; T., of the 
right retina; and F. C. S., those going to the central or nasal half of the left 
retina. O. D. is the right and O. S. the left eyeball. The rightward half of each 
is therefore blind. In other words, the right nasal field, B. N. F., and the left 
temporal field, L. T. F., have become invisible to the subject with the lesion at Cu. 



APPENDIX. 



235 




Fig. 4. The organ of hearing. (From Walker's Physiology.) 



1. Auricle. 

2. Opening of ear showing orifices 
of sebaceous glands. 

3. External auditory canals. 

4. Semicircular canals. 

6. Auditory nerve, with facial nerve. 

6. Membrana tympani, with the 
elastic fibrous membrane which forms 
its border. 



7. Tympanic cavity. 

8. Tensor muscle of the tympanum, 
the tendon being attached to the upper 
portion of the handle of the malleus. 

9. Upper portion of the Eustachian 
tube. 



236 



APPENDIX. 



• • • • 

• • • # _ • • 



• •• • 



» a 



• • • • ■ 
• • • » • . 



• • • 
• •• 






C. H. 

Fig, 5. H. and C. represent respectively the hot and cold spots as found in 
the back of the hand. At these points are nerve termini sensitive to {H) heat 
stimulations and (C) cold stimulations. 




F^ 



Fig. 6. Schematic profile of left hemisphere. (After James.) If the region 
marlced Broca be destroyed, motor apliasia (inability to execute movements) 
results. Destruction of the region marked Wernicke results in sensory aphasia; 
i. e., inability to feel sense-impressions. This case assumes a right-handed per- 
son. In case of left-handed persons these centers would be located in the right 
hemisphere. 




FiQ. 7. (After James.) A. is the auditory center, V. the visual, W. that 
for writing, and E. for speech. This figure is designed to represent the round- 
about course taken by the ner-sre-curreht during the act of writing something 
heard. The complexity of this neural act is considered by some as an argu- 
ment against the early' introduction and the over-practice of writing from dic- 
tation. 



238 



APPENDIX. 




Fig. 8. (After James.) Left hemisphere of monkey's brain, showing locali- 
zations of functions. Mesial surface. 



APPENDIX. 



230 




Fig. 9. (After James.) Left hemisphere of monkey's brain, showing locali- 
zations of functions. Outer surface. 



240 



APPENDIX. 




Fig. 10. (From Walker's Physiology.) Showing localizations of human 
brain. P., pons; M., Medulla; Cer., Cerebellum. 



m 22 |§06 



